


What I Learned in Group Therapy

by LostOnNeptune



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anxiety, Dating, Depression, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Group Therapy, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Omg this sounds so bad but I promise it's not, POV Alternating, Psychological Disorders, Psychological Trauma, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers, everyone's in their 20s, much lighter than the tags make it seem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOnNeptune/pseuds/LostOnNeptune
Summary: “In short,” He could swear the blonde bastard looked like he was enjoying this. “You have anger issues.”Eren snorted. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”A bit of bad behavior lands Eren in trouble. As a result, he's forced to attend group therapy. There he encounters some of the craziest and most inspiring people he'll ever meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... this happened. Yeah. I couldn't get the idea of which mental disorders the characters of SnK might have out of my head. I mean, this story idea has been literally haunting me for like two months so I finally gave in. I don't know where this one is gonna go, I guess we'll find out. Tags will be updated as we go along. And whenever a new disorder is introduced, I'll put a little info about it in the end notes. I'm really looking for feedback on this one so any and all comments are much appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter summaries will begin in ch. 2

It was stupid. There was no way this was actually happening. He wondered why they wanted this from him at all, not concerned with what he wanted instead. But staring down at the notification for the appointment on his cell, he knew the alternative was a far worse option. He crossed his arms. It was still stupid— a giant waste of time. He’d rather spend the second half of his day looking for a new job than doing this. He stared at the clock, watching as the little hand lazily ticked past the nine, warning him to leave if he wanted to be on time. Maybe he wouldn’t go. But then, they would find out wouldn’t they? And the alternative option was thrust before him once more, only slightly less appalling than before. He grunted to himself, not hearing the other person enter the room.

He found his eyes locked with hers as he silently conveyed his displeasure with the current situation with a rough frown. Mikasa sighed and took off her jacket. “Go, Eren.” she commanded softly as she walked into the kitchen.

Eren scoffed but stood, mumbling “Yeah, alright,” as he grabbed his things and left the apartment. Hands in his pocket he walked for probably the fourth time in two weeks to the white building on the corner a few blocks away. It was a pain in the ass, really, having to take time out of his days to sit a small office and stare at a jackass, all because a different jackass didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

He thought about the harsh punch that same mouth had received a few months ago with satisfaction. “Served him right.” he assured quietly to himself.

When he made it to the office, he signed in with the girl at the counter. It was a different girl this time, a blonde who tossed the clipboard at him haphazardly with a pop of her bubblegum and a side eye mean enough to make any small children nearby cower. Eren raised an eyebrow at her as she went back to her computer screen, professional in the way she ignored him. He stared for a moment, debating whether or not he should mention that customer service is a basic job skill. That was, until he caught sight of her name tag.

“What?” Even her voice was nasty.

“Your name’s Hitch?”

She crossed her arms, narrowed eyes on him like he was some spider she’d discovered crawling in her space. “Is that a problem?”

A Hitch indeed. “No.” Eren returned the clipboard, deciding against making the obvious joke, and instead placing himself in one of the empty chair.

He was the only one in the small waiting room and he hated it, hated the sight of the old brown chairs and the smell of coffee that came through the receptionist window, hated the bright white walls and the sterile chill in the air and corresponding strong, clean smell. It felt like he was in a hospital and he hated it. He turned his head and stood as the door opened, revealing a rather tall man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a black clipboard. He found that the man was looking toward him expectantly.

“Mr. Jaeger?”

“Eren’s fine.” He stood up, kind of confused. “You’re my new doctor?” 

The man smiled. “My name is Erwin Smith.” He held out his hand which Eren shook politely. “Why don’t we talk in my office?”

He followed Dr. Smith down the hallway, through a set of doors, to an office in the far corner of the building. This office was very different from the one he’d been in before. It was bigger, with a larger, nicer desk and a sofa set. There was a computer with three monitors on the desk, many filing cabinets behind it, and single chair before it which Eren took as it was offered. 

“So, what’s going on? They emailed me saying you’re gonna be “treating” me instead of Dr… whatever-her-face was.” He averted his gaze. “Did I scare her off or something?”

Erwin raised a surprisingly bushy, but well maintained, eyebrow but kept his face otherwise neutral as he set the clipboard on the desk and sat down. “When Dr. Brzenska presented your case to the team, I found it very interesting.” He folded his hands on the desk, leaning forward as he did so. “Let me get to the point, Eren. I’ve been running a small experiment for some time now and I wanted to extend the offer for you to join it.”

Eren sat back in his chair, still confused. “What kind of experiment?”

“It focuses on the effectiveness of group therapy as a treatment for a range of different, more severe, disorders. By joining, you’d be expanding its breadth even more.”

He wasn’t sure if he liked the way the doctor was looking at him, with a slight glint in his eye and too much hope. Eren crossed his arms. “What’s in it for me?”

The man chuckled. “Of course.” He turned his chair towards the file cabinets and produced two pieces of paper before setting them down in front of the young man. “Judge Zackly has already approved this course as a satisfactory means of paying your debt to the court. If you decline this offer then you continue your weekly treatment as planned for twelve months, one-on-one with Dr. Brzenska. However, if you accept, I will oversee your treatment and while we’ll still meet weekly, it’ll be over a six month period instead. And, as mentioned, you’ll be part of a group.”

Eren looked at the papers before him. They both seemed to be consent forms, one with an outline of the research and another asking for his permission to switch physicians. The opportunity to cut the time spent fulfilling this obligation in half was extremely appealing. Six less months? That was hard to pass up. He read over the first form briefly, immediately spotting a clear difference.

“It says here that if I don’t meet my goals within the time discussed I have to continue treatment? The court said I only had to go for the time I was sentenced to.” he said skeptically.

Dr. Smith leaned back in his chair. “Yes, it’s one of the new conditions. It is an experiment after all so unless you’ve completed treatment, we can’t afford to lose you.”

Eren stared at the consent forms. In the end, the chance at spending half of the time in therapy he had been expecting to won over, and he signed where Dr. Smith indicated on the forms. With a content look the man relocated the papers to whatever file they had come from and turned to his computer, pushing a pair of thin wire glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Alright, so, it seems like you went through screening and assessment with Dr. Brzenska. Good, we can dive right in.” Eren’s ears pricked at the sound of a printer starting up. Not long after, a few more pieces of paper were in front of him. With a sigh, he reached for him. Since the first day he’d reluctantly set foot in the building that’s all anyone ever did, shove papers in his face. Questionnaire this, insurance that, consent form blah blah blah. He looked onto the pages with tired eyes, barely registering what was before him. 

At his empty expression, Dr. Smith folded his hands again. “The results of your assessment indicate that you have intermittent explosive disorder.”

Straight to the point, he respected that. Although he needed a bit more information to fully appreciate what he was being told. So he sat back and crossed his arms, papers still in hand. “And what does that mean?”

“In short,” He could swear the blonde bastard looked like he was enjoying this. “You have anger issues.”

Eren snorted. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“I’m sure I’m not. But I am the first person to diagnose you with it and subsequently treat you for it. What you’re holding is a rough outline of your treatment plan. You can go through it now and ask me any questions or make any changes, or you can take it home, look over it, and email me any concerns you may have. My card is stapled to the back.”

Eren flipped the pages over for verification. “Efficient.”

“Yes, extremely.”

“So,” Eren folded the papers and put them in his back pocket. “Are we gonna get started or what?”

Dr. Smith shook his head. “Not today I’m afraid. I really need you to look over those documents before we begin. And since you agreed to the experiment, we can’t begin your treatment until you start group. We’ve been doing it for six months already so most people will have been there longer than you. We meet weekly on Thursdays at 4pm in conference room C. Any questions?”

“The conditions the court put in place are still the same?”

He nodded. “I will be reporting on your attendance, behavior, and progress the entire time you’re in my care. If you assault anyone, or fail to attend even one session, you’d be in violation of the terms of your sentence and Judge Zackly could send you to prison.” The gaze Dr. Smith directed at him was gentle and against his better judgment he felt less hate towards his situation and less reluctance to cooperate with the man in front of him. “That’s not an outcome I want for you. I look forward to working with you in the next few months.”

Well that was something, at least. Eren nodded and stood, somewhat awkwardly. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

Then he was through the door and walking past the receptionist who continued to ignore him, touching his back pocket to make sure he hadn’t lost the papers. The little bell wrung as he exited the building and embraced the brisk evening air. He looked left, then right, and shoved his hands in his pocket as his eyes settled on the object of his search. 

“So, how was it?” Armin’s bright eyes surveyed him as he approached, apprehensive and simultaneously optimistic in their genuine concern for him. It was always comforting.

“Fine, I guess. They switched my doctor and asked me to participate in some research.”

“Did they give you a diagnosis?”

Eren shrugged. “I’d rather wait til we get to that place you were telling me about to talk about it.”

Armin nodded. “Sure.”

Twenty minutes later they were standing in front of a small boutique. The outside wasn’t much— glass windows and a door, with simple brown walls and a corresponding striped awning that had the raised words Tea Shop in slender black ink above it. He almost laughed.

“Bet you five bucks it’s a tea shop.” Eren said as they walked in.

Armin smiled. “I know the name’s not very imaginative but I appreciate its candor. The place itself is really great, you’ll see.”

The inside of the shop was bigger than it’d seemed from the outside with a few display cases, tables, and a counter behind which stood a short, rather pleasant looking woman. She smiled at them as they approached. 

“Hey Armin,” she greeted cordially. “The usual?”

“Yeah, please.”

She typed something into the computer and turned to Eren who was staring at the menu, unsure of where to even begin. “Can I just have regular black coffee?”

She frowned. “Are you sure? First time customers get their first order free, house rules. Wanna try something else instead?”

Eren’s eyes went over the menu quickly again. He was more of an expresso person than a tea person and there wasn’t anything in particular that stood out to him. So, he shook his head. “No thank you, just the coffee is fine.”

They walked towards one of the windows and took a seat. Eren was still looking around as Armin pulled out his computer and set it on the table. “She knew you by name.” He remarked.

“You know I’ve been trying to get you to come here since high school right? Besides some of my med school friends and I have been coming here a lot lately. First round of finals are coming up.”

Eren sighed. Med school. It was a world totally unknown to him. Education had never really been his concern— after the shackles of high school fell away, he never even considered turning to it again. But Armin was different; intelligent, driven, adaptive. He’d always had a dream, always had a purpose, ever since they were kids, and Eren had always felt like he was somewhere in the shadow of that dream, admiring it but never really able to grasp it. Just in the backdrop of another person’s life. For a moment, he wondered if it was the same for everyone. As he leaned his head into his hand, his eyes traveled to the world beyond the glass. There was a woman right outside of it, wrangling two small children as they walked along. If she were to look over, what would she see? Two twenty-somethings sitting at table together. That was probably all. She probably wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. His existence, in the grand scheme of things, meant next-to-nothing to her. Her life, and her children’s lives, would go on just fine without any consideration of him. He was just a stranger in a window.

“Eren?”

He blinked as Armin’s concerned face came into focus. “Sorry,” he said quickly. Man, there was nothing like a bit of insecurity to throw you into a bought of existentialism. “What’s up?”

“What did the doctor say?”

Eren sighed. “He said my results showed that I have some sort of disorder. Internment— intermittent?— explosion disorder.”

Armin typed quickly on his keyboard. “Intermittent explosive disorder. Did he tell you about it?”

“Not really. But he gave me a treatment plan and told me to email him if I had questions.”

“I would do some research on it Eren. It says here—”

Eren rested his forearms on the table. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll look into it later. I have a few days before my first session.”

“Here you guys go.” They looked up to find the cashier setting their drinks in front of them. Whatever Armin ordered was in a shiny white mug atop a small white plate, and his was in a like black one. 

“Thank you.” The boys said in unison. 

“Is it just you back there today?” Armin asked casually.

“We’ve been slow today so the others are on break.” She turned a little to Eren. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh sure.” Armin gestured to the woman. “This is Petra. Petra, this is my friend, Eren.”

She smiled. “Well it’s nice to meet you Eren. Hope we get to see more of you.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. It’s nice meeting you too.” 

With a little wave, she was gone, returning to behind the counter, and pulling out her cell phone. Eren looked at his coffee. It was a light brown and smelled like a dark roast, deep and strong and comforting. On his mouth it was hot, soothing against his parted lips but what the hell was that taste?

As soon as the liquid was in his mouth he let it fall back into the cup. “What the hell? That was awful.” he sputtered, reaching for a napkin and wiping his mouth. “I’m gonna ask for something else.”

“Eren,” Armin started but he was already up with the coffee in his hands, headed towards the counter. Instead of Petra, he found himself staring into the expectant grey gaze of another man. He looked to the coffee in Eren’s hand and back to him, impatient eyebrows raised. His whole demeanor shouted what do you want at Eren as he set the cup onto the counter. 

“The coffee wasn’t good—”

“What was wrong with it?”

Eren was a little surprised at the other man’s tone. Well if he was going to be rude, Eren could only supply him with the decency of doing the same. “Honestly, it tasted like shit.” Somewhere in the background someone coughed loudly. Was that Armin? “Can I get a croissant instead?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t see why not. But you’re gonna have to pay for it.”

“But the girl before said my first item was free. I didn’t drink the coffee so shouldn’t it apply to this this instead?”

“You’re gonna have to pay full price for it, kid.”

Eren felt his jaw tighten. Were they really gonna do this? “Can I speak to your manager?”

“Sure. I’ll have him bring the food to you when it’s ready.” Over the counter was his outstretched hand. Eren behind it indignantly for a moment. What the hell was wrong with that guy? He just said he didn’t want to pay for it. Another cough resounded from somewhere in the room and that really sounded like Armin. “Your friend seems to be choking. Maybe you should go check on him.” He curled his fingers impatiently towards himself.

With grit teeth, Eren placed the money in his hand. Whatever. He could always get a refund. As he sat back down he looked between his best friend and the man from behind the counter. “Can you believe that guy? I went up there, polite and everything, and he gives me attitude before I even make it to the counter. Like it’s not my fault if you hate your job man, don’t take that shit out on me.”

Armin sighed. “Can we not do this, please?”

He was taken aback. “What? All I did was complain about the coffee.”

Armin’s rebuttal was cut off by the arrival of the man from before and a questionable looking pastry. Eren crossed his arms as the food was set on the table. “I thought I asked for the manager.”

“I am the manager. Thanks for your business.” 

He saw himself getting up, saw himself going up to the man and demanding a refund, saw himself refusing to leave until that demand was met but catching the look on Armin’s face rid him of the will. He sighed. Armin liked coming here so he let it go and reached for the croissant. Maybe it would make up for all the trouble he’d faced so far and, besides, he was hungry. So he bit into it. It was burned. 

“I’m going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some characteristics of Intermittent Explosive Disorder
> 
> 1\. History of explosive aggressive outbursts out of proportion to any precipitating stressors  
> leading to assaultive acts or destruction of property.  
> 2\. Overreaction of hostility to insignificant irritants.  
> 3\. Swift and harsh judgment statements made to or about others.  
> 4\. Body language of tense muscles (e.g., clenched fist or jaw, glaring looks).  
> 5\. Consistent pattern of challenging or disrespectful treatment of authority figures.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked Ymir dead in the face. “Pass.”
> 
> There was resounding laughter and chuckles ringing from the group, a reaction that matched the sincerity of the confusion on Eren’s face. Erwin looked at him apologetically. “Passing is not an option, Eren, everyone participates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like Levi. I like Levi. We all like Levi. So at the expense of setting an unrealistic precedent for the frequency of my updates, here's a chapter. Enjoy!

He woke up before the alarm, as usual. He still had about an hour before he had to be up. But hey, if his body decided he was rested enough to start the day, who was he to say otherwise? Yawning, Levi slipped from beneath the covers and stood. The floor beneath his feet was cold and he wondered if the temperature was finally dropping. Beyond relief from the agonizing heat summer liked to leave in its wake, the shop tended to fair better in the colder months. Tea was soothing after all— it soothed warmth into numb knuckles and freezing fingers, and spirits broken from the bitter cold just the same. It was a nice thought, so he kept thinking it as he went to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

He brushed his teeth for a while before making sure the toothbrush was perfectly centered in its holder and the toothpaste was aligned with it. He took a shower and dried off, hanging the towel so both ends hung evenly on the towel rack. Then he got dressed, folding his dirty clothes and storing them in a pile within the hamper. He made his bed, pulling the sheet taut so no wrinkles ruined the presentation and fluffing out the pillows. The comforter refused to lay evenly on all sides and after ten minutes of walking around the bed, pulling, fixing, and repeating, Levi set his shoulders in defiance of the need to have it perfect and walked out of his bedroom.

As he moved to survey his stock in the fridge, he heard the telltale knock on his door. He unlocked it without looking and went back to making breakfast. “How late am I this time?”

The door closed behind him. “Only about ten minutes.”

He scoffed, turning on the stove. So much for that extra hour. “Did you finish prepping?”

He watched from the corner of his eye as Hanji sat at the counter. “Of course. I wouldn’t have opened up if I hadn’t. I left that beautiful baby of ours in the very capable hands of Petra while I snuck up here.”

He rolled his eyes, focusing on the meal he was preparing and not pointing out that he owned the larger share of the shop so it was, in fact, his baby and she was more like the nanny that took care of it when he was away. Or, at the very most, the crazy aunt. The unusual silence coming from where she was prompted Levi to look in Hanji’s direction to see if she’d left, or stopped breathing. But there she was, head resting in her hands as she looked up at him, waiting. 

“So…?”

He turned back to the stove, grumbling “Eight.”

“Whoohoo! That bastard Oluo owes me twenty bucks!”

“Since you guys insist on making bets on how many times I brush my teeth in the morning, don’t you think it’s only fair that I get a cut.” 

Hanji smiled at him as he set food in front of her. “Would three bucks for some more toothpaste make it better?”

Levi snatched the food away from her and looked on, annoyed, as she laughed like a damned idiot. When she was normal (all things considered) again, he kept the food from her grasp. “Don’t you have work to do?” He reached for the foil and wrapped the plate. “And take this to Petra, she needs it more than you do.”

And after he swiftly kicked Hanji out, the day went on like it normally did. He took care of shipment orders, stocking, bills and the like, while the others tended to the customers. He covered Petra on her break, noticing that she was finally showing through her apron. He grimaced at the follow-up thought of having to hire a new cashier. She’d been there since the place had opened, and the thought of giving her position, even temporarily, to some snot-nosed undergrad didn’t sit well with him at all. So when she came back, he went to the office to draft a help wanted notice for the website. And every once in a while he poked his head out to see if all was well, bark orders at the slackers, and make quick visits to regulars. One just regular was sitting quietly at a table by the window, blond hair buried in a book, like always.

Levi took the seat opposite him. “How’s the studying going?”

Armin smiled and Levi resisted the urge to wince. In the sunlight he forgot how awfully bright this guy was. “It’s fine. I’ve given up on trying to get more than two hours of sleep and my dreams are plagued by failure and anxiety. But yeah,” He blinked a few times. “It’s fine.”

Levi crossed his arms. “Do what you gotta do. And stay in school.” He stood up, looking back at the aspiring doctor with fond eyes. Armin had been frequenting the little shop of his since high school to study or just relax. He’d shared with them all his hopes and dreams and all his stresses alike, from applying to university to asking that girl out to getting rejected by said girl, to graduating and asking that same girl out again with more sucess, to applying to grad school and so on. He remembered the moment Armin had come back from studying abroad in France that one year, much taller with a deeper voice, wider chest, longer hair, and the same reserved personality. It was like watching your child grow up. “You make us all proud, kid.”

He looked embarrassed. “Well anyway, how’s Petra doing?”

“She’s fine. That kid’s slowing her down though, and now I have to find a temp for when her leave starts. Little bastard’s already causing trouble.”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate you calling her unborn child a little bastard.” Then Armin frowned, a reaction Levi hadn’t expected. “Hey about the other day, sorry if Eren caused any trouble for you.”

Levi raised his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Besides he was right, the coffee tastes like shit.”

He waved goodbye to everyone’s favorite customer and went on about his day. When three thirty came around it was time to leave. He bid everyone goodbye and trusted Hanji to take care of anything that may happen like he always did and started his walk down the street. It was definitely getting cooler out and he was grateful for the decision to bring a jacket. 

When he made it to the building, he signed in and headed to the conference room. As he entered the hallway, he heard the unmistakable sound of a lovers’ quarrel; angry words, fierce whispering, and quick conversing to match. When he came upon the two in question, he decided maybe it was better not to acknowledge them. As he passed, the momentary silence gave way back into the argument. And as he opened the door, he heard quite clearly “No, this is your problem Ymir, not mine.”

It wasn’t his business though so he set his sights on the man with the clipboard instead. “Erwin.”

“Levi.”

“How’s it going?”

“Well, and with you?”

“Can’t complain.” Levi took his regular seat in the circle near the back of the room, noticing immediately that it was still the cleanest one, but off center. “You added an extra chair.” he remarked as he sat down. “Are we expecting company?”

“Yes.” And it was answer enough for Levi as he leaned back in his chair and waited for the session to start. Slowly they all filed in, his group therapy counterparts, all taking their normal seats. Among the familiar faces was one not totally unfamiliar. Walking toward him with a neutral expression but a nervous step was the kid from the other day, Armin’s friend— Eren or something. If he recognized Levi’s face, he didn’t show it. Only took the last remaining seat next to him and stared at his feet like he’d actually have to participate if he didn’t. Levi grinned inwardly. Tough shit kid, you’d have to participate no matter what you decided to look at.

“Good afternoon everyone, before we start I want to welcome Eren to the group. He’ll be attending sessions regularly until the duration of our time together runs out.”

The group said the stereotypical “Hi Eren” and that seemed to just kill him, as he nodded and crossed his arms, attempting to shrink away from the attention.

“So I’m going to deviate from our plans a little bit in the beginning here. Ymir,” She sighed, looking straight at him. “I noticed you look a little upset. Did something happen? Is there anything you’d like to share?”

“Of course you noticed.” She scowled. “Fine, I’ll share.” They waited patiently for a moment for her to do so. “Me and Historia got into another fight on the way here.”

“What was the fight about?” he asked.

“Same thing as always, I guess.” 

Levi listened as Ymir described a pretty eventless morning, a trip to a restaurant, and a little too friendly waiter. As she was recounting her reaction to the way the guy had flirted with Historia, he felt the sudden tingle on his neck that alerted him that someone was invading his space. He turned his head and met curious but reluctant green eyes.

“I’m lost.” Of course you are. “Who’s Historia?”

“Her soulmate. Now shut up and listen.”

Eren looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it and instead leaned back into his chair and looked away from Levi. Honestly he had been expecting some sort of rebuttal given his confrontational air the few days prior, but he accepted the retreat all the same. As Ymir finished her story, which ended with the fight in the hallway, Erwin prompted the group to go around and offer advice as to how Ymir might be able to address the issue she was facing. She wasn’t that far away from Levi so he figured he would be one of the last ones to add his point so he tuned out. He surveyed the expressions of the faces around him, noticing many mirrored his own— detached, disinterested, plastered with polite indifference. After six months of this process, you would think they’d all be a bit more into one another. But more than anything they were probably focusing on what they would say when their turn arrived. In his mind, group therapy was supposed to be like a conversation. And it was, but just one in which everyone would speak, but no one was really listening. All except Eren.

Eren’s gaze had followed every single person who’d been speaking, going to and from all parties involved as Erwin guided the conversation, and Levi’s gaze had followed Eren’s. He rectified that oversight upon catching it, focusing instead on the fact that an escalation seemed to be taking place.

“Sure, whatever you say. Next.” Ymir crossed her legs impatiently.

Erwin scribbled something down on his clipboard and looked up to the next person. “Go ahead Reiner.”

The man in question cleared his throat and leaned onto his knees. “This is a reoccurring argument right? Maybe in the future you should—”

“And just who am I talking to this time?”

“Ymir,” Erwin’s warning tone sounded loudly in the sudden quietness of the room. But Reiner just laughed.

“It’s okay, really. All I wanted to say was that you shouldn’t hold Historia responsible for the actions of others. She’s very beautiful so it’s natural that people might comment on that. Don’t let it get to you.”

Ymir was unconvinced. “I’ll keep it in mind. Next.”

And like magnets to metal everyone’s eyes were on the newcomer. He looked Ymir dead in the face. “Pass.”

There was resounding laughter and chuckles ringing from the group, a reaction that matched the sincerity of the confusion on Eren’s face. Erwin looked at him apologetically. “Passing is not an option, Eren, everyone participates.”

“What if I don’t have anything to say?” The question seemed honest enough.

“Is there a particular reason for that?” Erwin countered.

“No, I just—” The discomfort he exhibited was almost palpable. “I guess I’m just missing a lot of information.” He looked at Ymir again. “Ymir, right? So, like, why’d you come here in the first place?”

She didn’t seem prepared for the question. Her arms fell from across her chest with a sigh and she raised her head to the ceiling. Despite her antics, Levi saw she’d known the answer as soon as the question had registered. But she sighed again, long and drawn out, and Levi could tell she was about to allow a bit of truth into the group, let them peer over her personal walls for however long the moment lasted; a rarity, especially for the freckled woman. 

Her eyes were on Eren, sad brown within them softened like melted chocolate. So honest was her expression, so vulnerable, that the emotion threatened to spill from them in thick, sweet tears. Levi feared they all just might drown. But Ymir remained composed, and she kept her voice even when she spoke. “Because I love my wife. And I know I’m our problem.”

Eren nodded, seemingly untouched by the devotion and helplessness displayed in her tone that had Levi biting the inside of his lip. “Okay. Well, then I guess if I were you I’d remember that the next time you think you might pick a fight. And for the record, that waiter is trash for just ignoring you like that.”

She grinned. “You said it man.”

And then it was Levi’s turn, and he opened his mouth, fully expecting to say something, but closed it upon sensing an interruption from Erwin who promptly smiled.

“Thank you, Eren. I want to move on now and tackle some of the things I asked from you all last week…”

…

“Levi, can you stick around for a moment?”

He’d just stood up and stretched, eyes on the door. But he remained at Erwin’s request, sitting back down and crossing his legs. A few chairs over, he saw Ymir had stopped Eren. They weren’t necessarily attempting to be discreet so he didn’t necessarily attempt not to hear them.

“So, why are you here?” He heard Ymir ask.

“I punched a guy in the face and he pressed charges.” Levi was a little surprised at the candor accompanying the answer, even more so the shrug that followed. “They offered me this instead of going to prison so I figured I might as well.”

Ymir nodded and the look she was giving Eren was the same Levi was giving Eren, the same Erwin had all given them on their first day in treatment. The look that said no, why are you really here? Silently he implored her not to say it though. They had all learned the consequence of trying to force someone to accept this other side of themselves they had no say in, the sides of themselves that were invasive, hard to get away from, and ultimately just as much a part of them as their names. They had all felt first-hand the way it crushed and freed you, and they knew now that you had to see it for yourself and there was no way around that.

“Look,” she started and Levi watched from his peripheral vision, prepared to intercept if necessary. He noticed Erwin notice as well and they both calmly pretended not to notice as the scene unfolded before them. “I’m not gonna tell you how to feel or look at things or anything like that. It’s your life. But let me offer you this bit of advice— the sooner you decide why it is you’re actually here, the better. Until then, you’re just wasting everyone’s time.”

Eren’s expression was quizzical, but no more than that. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Thanks?”

Ymir shrugged and turned around, leaving the remaining three in a lingering silence. Eren shook from it first, intercepting Erwin as he headed for Levi.

“Dr. Smith, I just had a quick question.”

Erwin regarded him gently. “What is it?”

Eren avoided meeting the other man’s gaze. “So if, and I really mean if, I have this thing, this… disorder… is there, like, a cure?”

What a question. Levi blatantly stared, already knowing the answer but wanting to see how Eren would take it. Some did well, others, not so well because Erwin wasn’t the type to sugar-coat anything, and he definitely wasn’t a liar. But he wasn’t cruel either which was why most of the time, he delivered news well. “It’s not something that can be cured, per se. But if you’re willing to do the work, we can help you manage it and lessen the impact it has on your life.” Eren’s face remained the same and Levi saw he wasn’t there yet. There was defiance and skepticism in that face and Levi shook his head. Ymir was absolutely right.

As Eren left, Erwin finally approached him. “Let me guess, you have some homework for me?”

…

The end of the night had come around and Levi was cleaning the tables in his shop, still. Hanji yawned from the doorway, leaning on the frame and looking on her phone. Levi frowned. He wiped in circles, one, two, three times. If he didn’t clean the tables well enough, all the leftover germs would spread. One, two, three. If that happened, his customers would get sick. One, two, three. If people got sick, they wouldn’t come in any more. One, two, three. If that happened, he’d lose all his business and consequently the shop. So if he didn’t want to lose his shop, he had to clean the tables well enough. Again. 

The upper side gleamed under the soft light of the overhead fixtures, a pretty sight that would have any normal person satisfied. He sprayed and ran the rag over, sighing. One, two, three. His frustration tightened his grip on the rag. One, two three. Almost. He didn’t want to compromise his business, so he had to be sure. Just one more time. One, two, thr—

The sudden warmth of Hanji’s hand over his snapped him out of it, her touch freezing his movements. He exhaled, feeling the weight of his shoulders as they dropped. “How long this time?”

“Thirty six and a half minutes.”

“You really should just leave me here, you know?”

“Nope.” Gingerly she confiscated the rag, draping it over her shoulder. “If I did that, you’d probably clean everything into oblivion.”

He nodded, gaze lingering on the table’s face, anxiety pooling in his stomach. Before he could give in, shove Hanji to the ground, steal the cloth and wipe until his palms bled, and then probably clean some more because of the mess it would make, he turned away. He locked up behind them as they exited the building and waved Hanji off as she went to her car. Tired feet took him up the two flights of stairs to his apartment slowly. As he walked he thought about Erwin’s request. There was only one place that he honestly avoided due to his disorder, and how the doctor expected him to survive more than a moment there without losing it when he couldn’t even manage to wipe tables normally was beyond him. But he was too tired to think about it, to tired to even look at his toothbrush, to tired to do anything except lay on his perfectly made bed and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
> 
> Obsessions are repeated thoughts, urges, or mental images that cause anxiety.  
> Compulsions are repetitive behaviors that the person feels the urge to do in response to an obsessive thought.  
> A person with OCD generally:  
> 1\. Can't control his or her thoughts or behaviors, even when those thoughts or behaviors are recognized as excessive  
> 2\. Spends at least 1 hour a day on these thoughts or behaviors  
> 3\. Doesn’t get pleasure when performing the behaviors or rituals, but may feel brief relief from the anxiety the thoughts cause  
> 4\. Experiences significant problems in their daily life due to these thoughts or behaviors


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dammit! Why can’t I get this right!”
> 
> “Cuz you’re not there yet.”
> 
> Eren took a step towards him and Levi looked up at a new, sadder expression. A defeated expression. “Well, how do I get there?”

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Sasha took a moment to catch her breath, leaning back on her heels and staring at the mess she’d made. She couldn’t believe she’d done this at work. It had happened in public before, sure, but never at her job. How could she put herself out there like that? How did she slip up so badly? Why couldn’t she just control herself? The smell of the vomit hit her and a wave of honest nausea gripped her stomach, and she grimaced at the irony that there was nothing left to throw up. She reached for the toilet paper and stood, waiting for the spell to pass before heading over to the cabinet beneath the sink for some cleaner. Spray bottle in hand, she grimly cleaned away the evidence of her misdeed.

As she flushed the toilet, there was a soft knock at the door. “Hey, you okay?”

She walked over to the sink, returning the cleaning supplies and looking in the mirror. She tried to swallow but the pain in her throat made it hard, and her voice came out hoarser than she’d meant to sound. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

Pause. “Where’s your purse?”

“My locker.” She cursed again ash she heard him leave. “Dammit.”

Her reflection betrayed every ounce of shame and guilt that had taken over in the last thirty minutes. Her eyes were red and a little puffy, her hair was unkempt from the pony tail she’d haphazardly tied before rushing to the bathroom, her collar was half flipped, and there was dried spit crusted in the corners of her mouth. She looked disgusting, the bitter taste in her mouth growing worse with each second she continued to look. Sasha turned on the water and quickly splashed some on her face. As she fixed her hair, her eyes caught the soft glint of metal from the edge of the sink. She didn’t even think twice before grabbing the fork and throwing it on the garbage, careful to conceal its presence from the naked eye.

The knock came again. She unlocked the door and opened it to revealed Connie, concerned frown on his lips. “Here,” he said softly, extending his hand to her. She grabbed the travel toothbrush and quickly flushed it with water before brushing her teeth. Connie was still in the doorway when she waved her hand in front of the towel dispenser but she didn’t acknowledge him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She heard him shift his weight. “Dr. Smith said—”

“I know what he said, Connie.” She brushed past him and out into the hallway, headed for her locker. “We can talk about the disgusting amount of leftover cake I inhaled and then immediately forced out later. Right now I just want to get back to work.”

Sasha twisted the combination into her lock and opened it, reaching for her purse and returning the toothbrush. She’d bought it about a year ago when it’d gotten really bad and she’d become tired of the constant taste of vomit on her tongue and rotting stomach acid against her teeth. She had hoped that by now she would have gotten rid of it, along with her bad habit. But no such luck.

Quickly she retied the apron she’d abandoned earlier around her waist and closed the locker door with more force than she’d meant to. She was gonna leave then, go back to work and put the whole incident in the back of her mind to untangled later, to feel bad about later, but she found it difficult to detach her hand from the metal groove.

The hand wrapping around her wrist and pulling it away from the locker was kind, and more welcomed than she wanted to admit. “Hey,” The golden pools of Connie’s eyes offered immediate and welcomed comfort, and in his gaze she found everything she needed, like always. “Next time, right?”

She groaned and leaned her head onto his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of ginger that seemed to always cling to his skin. “I’m sorry I snapped. I’m just tired of my own bullshit, y’know?”

He hummed in agreement, chuckling. “Surprised it took you this long.”

“So it’s like that, huh?” Sasha pulled away, grinning. “A month ago you were saying something a little different.” She mimed presenting a gift and quoted dramatically “‘You’re the ice to my cream and I wanna spoon for the rest of our lives.’”

Connie’s face violently tinted pink. “Hey I was nervous, and I hadn’t practiced enough! You can’t hold that against me forever.”

“Uh,” She wiggled her fourth finger in his face. “This ring you gave me says I can, so…” Then she laughed loudly as she avoided Connie’s reaching arms, skipping out of the room and leaving her betrothed flustered and annoyed in the room behind her.

She went up to the host desk and took a deep breath and a look at the layout for the day. As much as she wished the incident in the bathroom hadn’t happened, it did, and she was resigned to face it later. For now, she would work. She organized the menus, refilled the silverware, and updated various waiters on which sections they’d be responsible for on their shifts, including Connie who she sent off with a wink and a quick grope. And when a family of four came in, she greeted them with a big smile and a welcome before leading them to a booth. As they were walking, the mother pulled her aside.

“Excuse me, it’s my daughter’s birthday today. Do you all have anything for that?”

She nodded. “Yes ma’am. We sing Happy Birthday and you get a cookie with a scoop of ice cream and a candle. I can have your waiter bring it over whenever you’re done eating. Is that okay?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

On her way back to the stand, she relayed the wishes of the customer to the waiter assigned to their section. When she returned to her post, she found three people waiting for her. “Hi, is it the three of you?”

The guy in the front shook his head. “No actually I was wondering if I could speak with your manager. I’m responding to the job posting.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. His eyes stood out and their pairing with shaggy brown hair tugged at her memory. “Hey, have we met?”

“I, uh,” He turned to the other two with him. “I’m good guys, I’ll see you later.” They nodded and left, and Sasha didn’t miss the wary glances thrown over their shoulders as they did so. The woman paused at the door, but the blonde shook his head and they departed. Then Sasha was looking at the one the left behind, the one with the vibrant green eyes avoiding her own. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You’re Eren, from therapy!”

A hand was thrust over her mouth quickly. “Could you be any louder?” He removed his hand, looking around. “Sorry, I just don’t want to jeopardize my chances of getting hired. I really need a job.”

“Oh right, you need Nanaba. Here, come with me and I’ll grab her for you.” She gestured for Eren to follow and lead him to an empty table before offering him a drink, which he declined. Then she went to the office, told Nanaba about him, and watched as the woman sat down at the table, papers in hand. She kept her eye on them, trying to see how it was going when something a little strange caught her eye. Someone just beyond the door was staring into space, and had been for the past couple of minutes. She wondered what they were thinking about so intently, or if they might be staring at something. Looking closer, she noticed the strange man was kinda short, and a little grumpy?

“Hey Levi!” Sasha waved Levi down without even thinking about it. He saw her, then looked back to what he had been staring at, back to her and promptly rolled his eyes. A moment later he was standing cross-armed in front of her. “It’s like a class reunion in here today. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“Facing off with my inner demons and getting my ass kicked, like always.”

She nodded. “Same.”

Then Connie appeared, cutting off the rest of Levi’s pleasantries. “Hey, isn’t that Eren?”

“Yep, he’s asking for a job.”

“Oh, well I hope it goes well for him. Boss lady can be real intimidating.” Then he seemed to notice Levi. “Hey man, what’s good? Everything okay?”

Levi was looking in Eren’s direction. “I just wish the world was a little bigger.”

But Connie wasn’t able to keep up his end of the conversation, his attention having been stolen by one of the other waiters. “Hey, I gotta go do a b-day. Take it easy Levi. And you,” He grinned that stupid grin she loved so much. That flirty I’m-a-dork-and-you-love-it grin. “Have lunch with me later?”

“Baby, you treat me so good.” Then she kissed him on the cheek before he joined the group of waiters walking toward the family from before. 

“Love, huh?” Levi remarked.

Sasha blushed. “Yeah.”

The age-old birthday song filled the restaurant and Sasha smiled at the excited expression on the little girl’s face. Kids were so great, she’d always thought so. In her mind’s eye, instead of the parents sitting with the birthday girl, she saw herself and Connie, all laughter and smiles. Her stomach shuddered the way it used to when said man would pass her notes in Spanish in middle school, little notes with doodles, or puns, or stupid kiddie promises. Or in high school when they would ditch phys. ed. for ice cream and awkward teenage make outs, all groping and laughing, and even a headbutt that one time, and she felt like she could live in that feeling forever. But her mental image was swiftly disrupted, falling back into reality when she noticed the scene in front of her changing. Eren was standing, hands on the table, glaring at the group of waiters. He was saying, well actually yelling, at them with a sneer on his face. Whatever was happening, it was escalating and both Sasha and Connie were quick to react. But to her surprise, it was Levi who got there first.

…

Levi watched as the kid slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “Could you please shut the fuck up?”

There was a moment in which no one moved, the shock of the outburst seizing everyone who’d heard it. But it wasn’t long before one of the waiters stepped forward demanding indignantly “What’s your problem, dude?”

Levi saw one of Eren’s eyes twitch, like whatever his point was was the simplest in the world, like the egregious sin the group had just committed should have been obvious. “My problem is that while I’m trying to give an interview, you dicks decide to start singing as loud as you can. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate with all this noise!”

Levi blocked Eren’s path to the guy, calling his attention with a nonchalant “Hey jackass,” And before Eren could even register who had addressed him, Levi had a handful of his hair. With a moderate amount of force, he slammed his head onto the table. It was a good hit, he could tell by the sound Eren’s skull produced as it met the wood. And when Levi pulled his head back, he saw blood trickle down his chin. It was actually a really good hit. 

It looked like Eren wanted to retaliate but due to the position they were in, all he could do was stare angrily at Levi through the corner of his eyes. Hand still full of soft brown hair, Levi forced Eren to look at the table of people across from them, understandably fearful stares pointed in their direction.

“I think that’s enough. Or do you want to ruin this little girl’s birthday more than you already have?”

He let go and gestured with his head for Eren to follow him. His jaw was tight with rebellion but something, and Levi truly couldn’t say what, happened that changed the features on Eren’s face to averse compliance. So he got up, pinching his nose and following Levi to the front of the restraint. When they got to the door, Levi took the napkin Sasha was holding out for them before leading them outside of the mall to an area between two buildings, off to the side. He handed Eren the napkin which he took and placed beneath his nostrils. Levi supported himself on the wall as he waited for the other man’s nose to stop bleeding.

“Wanna talk about it?”

The proposal sounded strange and weird and entirely too forward out loud but it remained just the same. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. Eren must have sensed its genuineness because he averted his eyes and cursed under his breath. “I blew it.”

Levi crossed his arms. “You sure did.”

The sound that came out of his mouth then was like a growl, and Levi watched with mild fascination as Eren kicked over a nearby trashcan. When he turned back to Levi, his eyes were alive with all those disgustingly complicated emotions he was no stranger too. The intensity of the look, outlined in bright green, made him feel like he was on the cusp of a disaster, like he was baring witness to a forest ablaze, entranced by the self-destruction and fury in the depths of that gaze. “Dammit! Why can’t I get this right!”

“Cuz you’re not there yet.”

Eren took a step towards him and Levi looked up at a new, sadder expression. A defeated expression. “Well, how do I get there?”

He shrugged. “Accept that something’s wrong with you.”

“I feel like such a dick. I totally screwed up that girl’s birthday, I failed another interview. I—” He sighed, running frustrated fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

There was a feeling that popped up— undetected and unwanted— and attacked Levi every once in a while, one that made him do things against his better judgement, one that he felt spreading throughout his chest as he beheld the display of raw emotion and fragile potential before him. Like usual, he fought it. But it was those eyes, those damn tormented eyes, that had him spewing all sorts of vulgarity beneath his breath. And so, like usual, he figured ‘to hell with it’ and gave in. “You’re looking for a job, right?”

Eren’s eyebrows raised and his mouth seemed to snag on his response. “Yeah, I—”

“You ever work in food services before?”

“I was a barista for a little while.”

“How about this, you promise to put in some real effort with your treatment and I’ll hire you. You’d be working as a temp though.”

Eren chewed his lip, obviously having a bit of trouble either following or accepting the sudden turn in the conversation. “Are you sure? I mean, you saw what could happen if I lose it.”

Levi pushed off the wall. “I can handle you, or wasn’t that clear enough?” Eren’s cheeks brightened with embarrassment. “Look, I’m not gonna beg you to work for me. Either you say yes, or you don’t.”

Only a moment passed before he agreed. “I’ll do it.”

Levi nodded and started walking away. “Be at my shop by eight Monday morning. Expect to stay all day.”

…

Armin pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and leaned back into the sofa. The words in his text book had long since stopped making sense and he was finally coming to terms with the fact that any further study at this point in the night would be indeed pointless. He decided that he had enough time in his study regimen to take the night off and wondered if Mikasa might want to watch a movie with him. Anything would be a welcomed distraction at this point, even one of those old horror movies she loved so much. The suggestion died on his lips, however, when he turned and saw her standing at the kitchen sink, scrubbing the one giant pot they never used. She’d been at the task of cleaning every single thing in the kitchen for a while now, a habit she acted on whenever she was troubled, but Armin, in favor of reading through his books, had chosen to ignore it. Although now the situation warranted his attention, so he stood up, stretched and went to join her.

With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind and leaning his chin on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay, you know that right?”

At his words, she set the pot down. “I don’t think I trust him.”

“Well,” Armin started, guiding her to turn around and face him, an action she resigned to almost immediately. “You trust me right? I can promise you Levi will look after him.”

“How do you expect me to believe that when he shows up with a bloody nose and a new job? How do you know he didn’t just offer it in order to stop Eren from calling the police?”

“Mikasa,” She stiffened at his firm tone, probably aware of what he was going to say. “We’re not little kids any more. Eren can handle himself. And in all honesty, I think Levi is just what Eren needs right now. So please,” He moved a few strands of hair behind her ear and touched his forehead to hers, making sure she held his gaze. “Stop worrying, okay?”

She exhaled reluctantly, visibly relaxing. “Fine.”

Armin smiled and lead her out of the kitchen and back to the living room where he cleared his study materials from the couch and sat down next to her. “So how about a movie?”

As Mikasa picked something out from Netflix’s horror selection, Armin’s mind was still processing the recent developments his best friend had informed them of early in the day. It was great that Eren had found a job, and for the most part, the most worrying thing was that he might haul off and assault a rude customer again. Levi might just kill him if that happened. But beyond that, the shop owner had a good head on his shoulders; an astute sense of fairness, loyalty to his people, and a keen sense of empathy buried somewhere beneath all that cynicism. He shrugged. Who knows, maybe the arrangement would work in favor of the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Bulimia Nervosa
> 
> 1\. This disorder is characterized by binging and purging. A binge involves eating, in a short period of time, an amount of food that is larger than most individuals would eat under similar circumstances.  
> 2\. Binge episodes are often surrounded by painful emotions.  
> 3\. During the binge, there is typically a sense of lack of control and an increase in self-criticism, as well as justification for the behavior. After the binge, many individuals experience shame, guilt and regret.  
> 4\. Individuals with bulimia fear weight gain and typically believe they have to undo or compensate for the binge episode, so they purge what they consumed by inducing vomiting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She smiled. “Don’t be like that. Why not take Eren instead, you both have to go to the same place soon anyway, right?”
> 
> At the mention of his name, Eren straightened up. “What are you going for?”
> 
> “Erwin gave me some homework that’s due today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know how long it's been since my last update but sorry for the wait. It's been a weird week with finals and moving out and traveling (25 hour car ride, don't do it) and Christmas coming up soon. Anyway, here's your new chapter. It's a bit longer as penance for my absence. Enjoy!

The shivers running up and down Eren’s spine as he stood awkwardly in the center of Levi’s tea shop were relentless; he’d been feeling uneasy for the past fifteen minutes on the count of the brown-haired woman who’d been eyeing him. He was pretty sure she’d said her name was Hanji when she’d let him in. Although she did other things like minimal cleaning and checking out the single customer who’d shown up so far, her eyes had never left him. He didn’t know how to deal with it and so he stayed where he was, trying to ignore the feeling of being hunted by this strange, four-eyed predator.

He checked his phone. It was twenty minutes after eight and Levi hadn’t shown up yet. He assumed he’d wanted him there at opening in order to knock out all the training in one day, but where was he? From the limited interaction he’d had with the man, he assumed he was the punctual type. Being late to his own shop struck Eren as beyond odd. He hoped everything was okay.

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, letting in a gust of cool air and with it the Tea Shop’s owner. “Good to see you can be on time.”

Eren opened his mouth to inquire after the other man’s punctuality but Hanji had walked over to where they were standing. She bent down and whispered something in Levi’s ear and he swiftly elbowed her in the ribs. Eren looked on with mounting confusion, not sure if he should even ask, as she clutched her side and laughed. 

“Um…”

“If you wanna make it through your days here, you’ll have to learn to ignore her.” Levi said, gesturing with his head for Eren to follow and leaving Hanji looking after them with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Now pay attention and don’t make me repeat myself.”

With that statement, or threat, his training began. The area behind the counter was roomier than it seemed from the other side, with three small stations atop a curved counter, an oven, the register, a fridge, tea organizers, and a coffee pot that he immediately ignored. Levi showed him around, and upon learning Eren knew virtually nothing about his wares, they spent the better part of three hours going through various recipes. Levi pointed out different tools, assigning Eren with learning their names and demonstrating how they were to be used. Most of the teaware was made of glass, and while it did concern him some that he might crush, drop, smash, or otherwise irreparably damage the various items, he had to admit the aesthetics of the ensemble were very pleasing to his eye. They were simple, minimalist, and it calmed him.

The stroke of twelve brought with it a rush of people. At this point, Levi stepped in to help and had Eren shadow him the entire time. Mostly he ended up preparing or warming food and tidying up around the place. The clientele of the Tea Shop were surprisingly diverse, ranging from professionals out for lunch, to college students looking fir a place to study, to teenagers skipping class. There was quite a few older people who came in too, making small talk with Levi who even half-smiled one or two times. If ever Eren had beheld another person in their element, it was here, in this small, poorly-named shop.

After the rush had died out, Levi informed him he was going to process the paperwork they’d filled out earlier and he could take a break. Eren was given forty-five minutes and an employee meal.

“So I can have anything I want?” Eren verified, surprised by the policy.

“As long as you don’t go over eight bucks, I couldn’t care less.”

He didn’t really want to leave for lunch and considering the generosity he’d been shown, he figured the least he could do was try a tea. He shrugged and looked around, not sure what he wanted. Levi was over by the register, waiting. “I don’t know what to get.”

An impatient hand found its was to his hip. “You don’t have to eat here.”

Eren bit into the inside of his mouth, considering. “Well, what’s your favorite?”

The slightest turn of his head told Eren he probably had never thought of it. So for a moment they stared at one another, patiently waiting for Levi pin down which drink he liked the most. Then he walked past Eren to one of the stations. He filled a glass pitcher with water and set it on the eye, turning on the heat and repeating the process with a smaller one, half full of milk. He moved around Eren, gathering various items and laying them on the counter. Among them were a bowl, one of the honey jars, and a wooden thing Eren was unfamiliar with. Then he was standing back, looking up at one of the cabinets above and crossing his arms. 

Eren waited for something to happen, wondering why he’d stopped in whatever he was doing. For a minute, he considered asking. But the concentration Levi was focusing on the cabinet made him think twice. He looked between his new boss and the cabinet, then back again, repeating the action until suddenly, it clicked.

Then he laughed, much louder than he’d meant to, rushing to cover his mouth and conceal the amusement his face was undoubtedly betraying. 

Levi looked so annoyed, it made him want to laugh more. But the humor of the situation was dampened by the threatening tone he assumed when he pointedly asked “What’s so funny, Jaeger?”

“Nothing.” he said, stepping in front of Levi and opening the cabinet for him. “What do you need?”

“The green tin.”

Eren located it and handed it to Levi who set it with his things and reached to turn off the heat where the water in the pitcher had begun to boil, leaving the milk to simmer slowly. “I didn’t show you how to make this one because people don’t order it very often. But take a look.”

Eren obeyed and watched as Levi reached for the tin and the bowl. It was ceramic, outlined with an intricate painted pattern in pastel colors. It looked like a scene— a woman dancing through time with a small child that grew as she went. He wondered briefly if it had been personalized. He thought he might ask him, but he worried he might ruin whatever was unfolding in front of him. Everything about Levi in the next moments were nothing less than enrapturing. The powder from the tin hit the bottom of the bowl and green dust rose into the air, fanning out and disappearing over the edge three times, each plume a little bigger and lasting longer than the one before it. Levi was muttering directions as he went, but Eren found he couldn’t hear them, attention focused on the movements Levi performed instead. He reached for the hot water, revealing his eyes to Eren. Their grey pools stirred and unfurled, permeating the air around them just like the steam that rose as the liquid made contact with the powder. 

He was gone, and wherever he was, Eren found himself wanting to be there too. Levi’s slender fingers searched the counter and wrapped around the base of the wooden tool, which resembled a miniature whisk. He pushed it into the mixture and drug it back in forth, and the sound it produced was hypnotic, soft and powerful like just broken waves returning to the sea. Slowly, a foam appeared, rising gently and shadowing over the deep green. It rose until the slightest nod of Levi’s head indicated it was done. Then he set the tool aside and retrieved the bowl, transferring the liquid gracefully to one of the cups. The color was striking against the white and Eren marveled at the contrast. Levi then poured the milk into it slowly, maintaining the foam at the top and simultaneously swirling in honey, and it was like he was taming the color, like he wanted to subdue its personality. Levi had transformed something vague into something intimidating, and then softened it, all in what couldn’t have been more than a minute and suddenly, a very obvious truth was revealed to him. 

Eren beheld the drink like the inconspicuous art it was, appreciating the care with which it was made. When he looked at Levi, he saw his expression was ever so slightly apprehensive as he offered the beverage and lifting it to his lips, Eren fully expected to taste whatever emotions, whatever stories, whatever magic Levi had weaved into the drink. 

The taste felt muted but was surprisingly delicate and charming as well, and Eren wanted to tell Levi that he got it now, that he understood, that Levi was a creator— a craftsman and a damn good one at that and no one should say otherwise. But instead, all that came out of his mouth was “Why is this one your favorite?”

Something quick and fleeting ran through Levi’s features before they settled back into their neutral expression. “It just is, I guess.” He started cleaning up and paused to look harshly at Eren when he was still staring with his tea cup in hand, waiting for a better answer. “I suggest you go take your break before I make you clean the bathroom instead.” Eren took the hint and scurried away, off to find a seat in the shop that was not directly within Levi’s line of sight.

For the most part, Levi was a great teacher. Over the next few days, Eren learned the majority of the recipes and some of the responsibilities assigned to the cashier. When it happened that Eren couldn’t remember an ingredient he was just told, encountered a rude customer, or he felt like he just wasn’t getting it, and the full force of his rage threatened to rip from him, Levi was there with calm words, rational thoughts, and occasionally a kick to the ass. Petra was a much-needed source of support when he made a drink wrong, or more often, a mess. Her boyfriend, Oluo, though, had a habit of negating her kindness. And it wasn’t like he was a dick or anything, he was just an idiot. His quips were childish and often times it seemed like he was imitating (very poorly) their boss but as the two moseyed around the shop, settled in some weird routine, he wondered how it was they ended up together and why it seemed to work.

Eren soon discovered he preferred more custodial responsibilities like sweeping, doing dishes, and stocking. Those things were easy, didn’t require customer interaction, and they left him some room to think. And when Thursday finally came around, he found himself doing a lot of that. As he swept up in the back, the family from before took hold of his thoughts. The little girl’s terrified and alarmed face was stark in his mind. The memory of her wide brown eyes and accusing stare had him biting the inside of his lip with guilt. There was probably nothing he could do now, even if he wanted to. And he wanted to. 

Eren leaned onto the broom and sighed. How could he? It was the reoccurring thought that had plagued him since he and Levi talked in the alley. How could he lose his cool like that, on a job interview of all things? How could he be so upset about a group of people singing Happy Birthday that he probably scarred a small child? How could he? The only answer he could come up with was that he didn’t know. He had no clue how he could do those things. He was quick to wonder if it had always been that way. All the times? Even when people really deserved it?

He looked up and saw Levi through the crack of the office door, sitting crossed legged and writing at the desk. As far as he was concerned Levi was pretty normal, or at last normal enough. But there had to be a reason why he was in group, right? It was probably the case that whatever his deal was, he had it under control. That control was something to be desired.

Eren rushed to look away, only when he realized he was staring, confirmed by the questioning expression on Levi’s face. He made quick work of the rest of the job and returned the broom to the storage room and went back on the floor. Levi walked through the door after him and walked past him, searching eyes landing on Hanji.

“Hey four eyes, come with me to the mall.”

“Sorry love,” She turned to him from her place at the register and gave him a completely ingenuine frown. “If I leave who’s going to watch the baby while we’re away?”

His eyebrows lowered a little. “I thought your loyalty was to me, not my shop.”

She smiled. “Don’t be like that. Why not take Eren instead, you both have to go to the same place soon anyway, right?”

At the mention of his name, Eren straightened up. The gaze cast on him by the other man was annoyed, and told him to inquire after how Hanji knew he was in group with Levi if he dared. “You’d be missing your last hour of work.”

He thought about it for a moment. “What are you going for?”

“Erwin gave me some homework that’s due today.”

Eren nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come. Let me punch out.”

…

Eren stared at the doors belonging to the place in which his incident had occurred, watching through the glass for any sign of the family. Although it had been almost a week since he’d seen them last and he knew it was unlikely he’d see them again, part of him hoped they’d decided to try to have a nicer dinner again that very night so he could do as he planned and make amends. What he saw instead was his would-be manager as she shuffled around, grabbing menus and greeting people at tables. He swallowed.

“Hey, Levi, you said you’re going to the food court, right?”

From where he stood beside him, Levi looked up. “Unfortunately.”

“Can I meet you there? I just need to take care of something.”

He half-expected Levi to stop him, to tell him, as he was telling himself, that the damage had already been done and there was no sense making a bigger jackass of himself than he had already. But, no such luck. “Handle your business. Just don’t take too long or we’ll be late.”

Eren nodded and headed for the doors, walking up to the stand and asking for Nanaba by name. When the woman appeared, her arms crossed immediately and she narrowed her eyes. “I hope you’re not here to ask for a second chance or something stupid like that.”

Eren shook his head. “No, actually I came back to apologize. I was out of line the other day; I messed up and I feel really bad about it so, I just wanted to say that I was sorry.”

Mild surprise graced the woman’s features as she listened, though not much else happened. For a moment she just stared at him, like she was deciding whether he was being honest or still after a job. Either way, she shrugged. “Just keep yourself under control and you’ll never have any problem with me.”

Before she could turn and walk away, he reached out, stopping her. “I know it’s a lot of trouble but, if you happen to see that family again, could you tell them I apologize to them too?”

She looked at him reproachfully but finally nodded and left successfully afterwards. While the guilt Eren had been feeling was definitely relieved, he wasn’t very happy. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the case that he’d be tracking down innocents and apologizing to them like this for the rest of his life. And as he turned to head to meet up with Levi, he thought about therapy and how this week, maybe he really needed to be there.

The food court was the same as always— big, packed, with the faint scent of overly fried foods hanging in the air. He wondered what sort of ‘homework’ Levi could possibly have in a place like this. Maybe he had to interact with people for a certain amount of time. Considering that the stern man seemed to prefer his own company to that of others, and that hungry people in a shopping man embodied humanity’s worse, he could see why Dr. Smith might ask something like that of him. For a brief moment he considered helping him, that was if Levi would allow him too. It only felt right, like he could repay his debt with the simple gesture alone. He knew it wasn’t like that though and sighed.

Fifteen minutes went by and Eren had taken a seat. Arms crossed, his leg shook angrily beneath the table. Where was he? How could he ask him to go to the mall with him and then just ditch him? He supposed it was possible he’d finished up and left while Eren had still been talking to Nanaba, which would have been a dick move. It was also possible that something had happened. The thought struck some momentary peace through him in which his indignation quieted down and leg ceased shaking. But what if something had happened? 

Eren retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed the number given to him on his first day of work. It rang once, twice, three times, then— “What?”

“Hey are you okay? You said to meet you at the food court but I don’t see you.”

There was a pause in which Eren could very clearly hear running water. “You should just head to the session.”

Eren furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of echoes in Levi’s voice. “Are you in the bathroom? I mean I could wait for you if you want, I don’t mind.”

“Don’t wait for me. I don’t want you to be late.”

“It’s fine, I—”

“Just go, Eren.”

The call ended abruptly with the command and left Eren confused and staring at his phone. In the pit of his stomach he felt his anger flare, rising up and pushing a sneer onto his lips. He was torn between the irritation at being so blatantly disrespected and the desire not to insult the generosity of the man who’d been putting up with him for a week now. He thought back to his treatment plan and inhaled, long and drawn out, before counting softly to himself until he calmed himself down. Was he going to confront Levi about being hung-up on? Yes. Was he going to yell and scream or start a fight? No. He’d settled on a controlled confrontation, one in which he would express his unhappiness with words instead of fists.

Eren spotted the closest bathroom and decided to try it. If it were him, he’d have gone to the first one he could find, near the food court or otherwise. He crossed the room and pushed open the door, revealing an empty restroom save Levi, who stood at the counter, washing his hands and ignoring him. He opened his mouth the speak, to demand to know why he’d been hung up on, but he sensed something was wrong as Levi reached for more soap and started washing his hands again.

“You have trouble wiping or something?” The expression formed at his words made Eren instantly regret them. Will all the tension in his face, Eren thought Levi might swing at him. But no, he just kept washing his hands, shoulders shuddering as he did so. So he tried being more direct. “Why are you washing your hands like that?”

Levi side-eyed him, probably deciding whether or not to bite. In the end, he did. “Because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to help myself.” He sighed then, flinging the water off his hands before waving one beneath the soap dispense. “All those people out there, in the food court, are totally normal. They come to the mall, shop, and get tired and hungry. They see the food court and they walk to whatever restaurant, get their food, eat it, and leave. Simple. Normal. But not me. I look at the food court and that alone is enough to shut me down. The tables are full of crumbs and gum, there’s dirt in the corners of the floor, people leave their shit everywhere when they’re done and the entire place smells like it was birthed from grease. And it doesn’t bother anyone else. But me,” Levi sighed, rolling up his sleeves before starting to wash his hands again. “I see all of that shit and my skin crawls. And I can’t stop thinking about the bacteria and the diseases that have to be festering in a place like this, about how sick I could get in a place like this even though I know that it’s absolutely fine. Everyone else is eating there, no one else is sick. But there’s this… thing inside of me that doesn’t care about my rational mind. This fucking thing that forces me to abandon my plan, come in this public restroom, and wash my fucking hands until my skin turns red and blotchy and painful as shit because that’s what will make it all better, right?”

He gripped the counter then, jaw tight and shoulders tense as he turned his frustrated, blaming stare onto the eyes of his reflection. “And you know what’s just the fucking worst about all of this? I just told you everything, said it all out loud for myself to hear too, and I still can’t stop.” His hands were back under the water as he mumbled “I just can’t stop.”

Eren didn’t know what to say as he watched the increasingly agitated man continue to reach for soap, wash, rinse, and repeat. Minutes went by in which the sounds of Levi scrubbing at his hands were the only ones between them, and it remained so for as long as he washed his hands. And even when Eren wanted to say something comforting, but didn’t, even as people came in, did their thing, and left the bathroom, even as Eren noticed that they’d been there for thirty minutes and time had slipped to five minutes to four, Levi washed his hands. And Eren didn’t stop him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He released fists he hadn’t realized he’d made and looked brokenly down at the woman who still had his heart. “For what it’s worth, Mina, I really did love you. I still do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good Christmas if they celebrated! I don't know about you guys, but I'm looking forward to the New Year. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can get another chapter up before then too (but, like no promises).

Jean crossed his legs, impatience prompting the tapping of his foot as he did so. He looked around the room and counted off those present, again. He glanced at the clock in front of him and threw a pointed look at Erwin, who caught it and then shrugged.

“Let’s give them five more minutes.”

“I don’t know about Eren, but it’s not like Levi to be late. I hope everything is alright.” It was Sasha who’d spoken, her brown eyes big with concern.

Jean scoffed. “He didn’t seem too enthused to be here last week.”

“Sometimes people just need a moment to acclimate.” Reiner offered. “Not everyone who comes here does so willingly.”

Jean turned his head a little. “Are you implying something, Reiner?”

“Jean,” Erwin warned.

“What? The session hasn’t officially started, I can still talk.”

The other man set his pen down. “Jean.”

“I know, I know. I’m doing the thing again, right?” Jean sighed. “Being passive-aggressive because their lateness is cutting into my session, which I’m then perceiving as a personal insult due to my inability to see that the reason they’re not here is mostly likely due to circumstances outside of their personality or general self-worth?”

The corners of Erwin’s mouth raised ever so slightly as he put pen to paper. “Good work, Jean.”

“Well, I still don’t like them not being here on time. It’s unacceptable, and some of us have places to be after this.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “I'm going to say something when they get here.” 

Ymir leaned back in her chair and groaned. “Seriously? You act like your pompous ass has never been a little late somewhere.”

His response was quick. “I don't appreciate your tone.”

Hers was quicker. “You don't appreciate anything. That's why you're here.”

“We’ve talked about this you two,” Erwin cut in, adjusting his glasses with patient fingers. “There's a better way to solve conflict than name calling.”

“You're right, as always.” Ymir mimicked Jeans posture. “My bad.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and fixed his eyes on the clock instead. “It's fine.” Five minutes Erwin had said. Sure. He watched the ticking hands with undivided attention as each minute passed by. Under normal circumstances, he was the life of the party. Well, of any gathering really. He would smile, and flirt, rouse discussions of all sorts- fashion, politics, music, the social climate, whatever. He could work a room as naturally as he could blink, or breathe. But here, it was different. Here the people came for themselves and unlike in daily life, everyone acknowledged it. Treatment was a selfish thing indeed and ‘group therapy’ was a misnomer if he’d ever found one. They weren’t a group. Instead, they were more like a collective, one in which each focused on themselves, participating at a bare minimum when it came to those beyond, saying just enough to reciprocate the favor of those others having to endure the bullshit of every vocalized experience tainted by their respective illnesses. At the end of the day they were all there to be treated as individuals, others be damned. And that’s why it was selfish.

The conference room door opened, interrupting his thoughts and revealing and neutral-expression Levi and a slightly flustered new guy. He looked guilty, but not very as they found their seats, offering up quick apologies for their tardiness. How badly he wanted to say something, how he yearned to express his grievance, let them know how rude it was to keep everyone waiting, but he kept his mouth shut, as he’d been asked to. Jean had noticed a pattern develop with the homework he received and knew what Erwin had been planning for today since the ending of the previous week’s session— a free share. 

“Okay everyone, let’s get started. Today I would like to do a free share. For those of us who don’t know, or may have forgotten, a free share is an exercise in which each person will share a hardship they’ve faced this week and as a group we’ll examine the ways in which whatever disorder they have factored into it and ways to prevent it from happening again. You may alternatively share a triumph. There’s no order, all I ask is that when someone is sharing, they are not interrupted by any means. Now, let’s begin.”

Silence followed his words, and everyone simultaneously avoided looking at anyone else. Except him, of course, who looked at everyone. Jean wasn’t a fan of these silence assignments but one thing they allowed him was a viewpoint similar to Erwin’s. He could see everyone, watch their expressions, watch the way the fidgeting in the in-between moments, watch the way they interacted. He couldn’t speak to the effectiveness of his homework, but it was interesting to say the least. It forced him to not be concerned with what words he would say next, what story he would grace the others with or anything like that. It put him in the background. While that had taken some getting used to, he didn’t mind being there as long as it wasn’t too often. It allowed him to notice things, like the way the two late arrivals were looking at one another as if they were arguing with their stares alone. The new guy— Eren— looked at Levi and then to Ewin and back and moved, drawing back when he was met with a conspicuous kick to the shin. He bit his lip then and swiftly elbowed Levi in the side. In the next moments, the two were passing well-concealed elbow jabs back and forth. That was definitely interesting and he decided within the moment that he would bring it to Erwin’s attention. Before he could, however, Sasha’s hand was in the air.

“Go ahead, Sasha.” Erwin nodded towards her, gently coaxing her on.

“Okay so, um, the other day, at work, I…” Her eyes were on the floor and her thighs were pressed together tightly. There might even have been a slight tremble throughout her body. Jean rolled his eyes. After six months of this shit you’d think they’d be used to sharing by now. But whatever, everyone handled things differently, right? He wondered how long it would last though. It wasn’t long before he noticed Connie was reaching down to cover her hand with his own, and the trembles stilled. For a moment, Jean just stared as Connie silently supported the woman he loved. He smiled ruefully to himself, stopping his thoughts from digging Mina up. There would be time for that later.

Sasha exhaled and tried again. “Yeah so, a couple days ago our job did their monthly birthday celebration. I think I told you guys about it before, with the giant sheet cake and some sodas and ice cream.” Some people nodded and she continued after another breath. “So yeah, that day I had a piece of cake. Just one; I was doing good. I was proud of myself. But the next day when my shift started I had another piece. And another. And I just couldn’t stop myself until I’d eaten all of what was left over, which was like half of the cake.” She paused, moving hair out of her face and looking down. “And then I threw it all up. Right at work. I haven’t purged in three months, since we got engaged actually, and I ruined it in one morning.”

She looked like she was near tears. Ymir leaned forward. “Y’know, Sasha, you don’t have to eat the cake. One day you’ll be fine and everything will be under control and you’ll eat normal, human, amounts of food. But until that day, instead of trying to control how much you’re consuming, why not just avoid it all together? Like a diet or something.”

Sasha sniffled. “I’ve never been on a diet.”

Ymir crooked a smile. “Yeah? Well treat it like you’re a recovering alcoholic or some shit— you can’t get drunk if you don’t drink in the first place.”

She nodded. “Okay, I think I might try that. Thanks, Ymir.”

“No problem. As for me,” She cracked a huge grin as she turned to the rest of the group. “Historia’s giving it up again.”

A universally positive reaction swept over the group. Reiner whistled, Connie cheered, and all but Levi clapped. Even Jean showed his respect towards the development with a smile and a nod Ymir’s way. “Yeah, I took her on a little trip to apologize for last week over the weekend, and we just had a really great time. The other day I got off work and came home to dinner on the table and the love of my life in the kitchen, in nothing but an apron.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean saw Erwin write something down on his clipboard. He looked up, with a smile. “That’s great news Ymir, congratulations. Prior to this, when was the last time you two had sex?”

She puffed out some air as she thought. “It’s been, like, two months I think.”

“So what do you think changed in the last week that allowed you two to couple again?”

“Honestly, Doc,” She looked triumphant in what she was about to say. “I learned how to shut my mouth.”

“Well done, Ymir.” He praised as he continued writing. “Why don’t you keep with that strategy for a while, and see if it continues to work for you?”

Ymir nodded and the session went on. There were plenty of silent moments in which one person or another would finally muster up the courage to speak, and Jean listened honestly to the ups and downs of everyone’s week. He kept an eye on the two in the middle whose silent argument seemed more and more noticeable as the group moved forward. Finally, it came to the point where they and one other had not yet shared, their avoidant expressions expanding the time that was wasting away at a rate faster than any other instance since the session had begun. Jean looked at the clock, noting that if they couldn’t wrap things up in the next fifteen minutes, he’d be late.

He found himself openly staring at Levi and Eren then, hoping his glare might coax one of them into saying whatever it was the other didn’t want them to. The awareness of whatever disagreement they were having spread to the rest of the group and it wasn’t long before all eyes traveled to the pair in question. Erwin cleared his throat. “Would either of you like to share something?”

Eren shook his head. “Nope. Actually, I had a pretty good—”

“Eren lost his shit at a job interview earlier in the week and ruined some kid’s birthday.”

Eyebrows raised as Eren’s head snapped to Levi, horrified expression quickly morphing into something calmer, slier. He looked straight at Erwin. “Well Levi freaked out at the mall right before we came here and made us late.”

Erwin leaned forward. “You seem to have seen a lot of one another this past week. Is there something going on between the two of you?”

Jean smirked, not only at how quick Erwin was but also at the dumbstruck expression of the men being addressed. Eren opened his mouth which he quickly shut as Levi raised a hand. “I hired him.”

“Then we should talk when we’re finished, the three of us. But for now,” He changed his attention to the last one to share. “Connie, it’s your turn.”

Connie blinked a few times before checking back into the conversation. “Oh right, sorry.” He rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Yeah, um, I had an okay week. Nothing bad, but nothing great either. I do have a feeling that I’m going to spiral again soon, so I made an appointment with you for tomorrow morning to make sure everything’s good.”

Erwin transcribed as he nodded. “Great, then I’ll see you then. If no one has anything left to add, we’re done for the day. I need to speak with you two before you leave.” Erwin spoke to Eren and Levi, and then to Jean. “And I’ll have that email from you by tomorrow night?”

Jean scoffed as he stood, fitting his bag onto his shoulder. “As always.” Then he left, sparing no goodbyes.

…

The apartment building stood out against the horizon as the sun set. It was striking, almost ominous, and Jean cast the thought from his mind as he entered the lobby. The receptionist frowned as he walked up to the desk, usual friendly greeting absent as he spoke, replaced instead with thinly-veiled apprehension. “Hey.”

“Hey.” 

The tension had appeared so quickly, it was actually annoying. He didn’t want this. He’d told himself over and over again on the drive there he wouldn’t let it be awkward. What a great job he was doing so far.

“So, listen man. I get it if—”

Jean raised a hand. “Thomas, it’s fine, really.”

Thomas pursed his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re all adults, right?” He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “I’m… okay now. I should have been the whole time, I’m sorry.”

The smile the blonde usually wore crept back to his face as the state of things shifted and the atmosphere lightened. “Not much can keep J.K down, huh?”

Jean couldn’t fight the twinge of delight he felt at hearing his old stage name and matched the warmth of the man whose face was becoming too familiar. “No one’s called me that in a long time, Thomas.”

“Well that’s a pity, really.”

“The modelling world moves quick, I’m sure I’ve been replaced by now.”

He shook his head but dropped the topic nonetheless. “Here for Rose?”

“Yeah, I uh…” He blew air apologetically through his nose. “So I really pissed Mina off last week during our fight and she took my key. Mind buzzing me in?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Jean thanked him sincerely before opening the door off to the side and making his way to the fifth floor. Scenes from the previous week replayed in his mind as he stood before the door to her apartment. Guilt gnawed at him as he rose his hand to knock. Man, he’d really been asshole. How strange was it that he never saw it until after therapy though?

The door swung open. Mina looked up at him, her expression angry but not hostile. “You’re late.”

“My session ran longer than expected.”

“You could have text me.”

He tilted his head, ready to blame the idiots who held up the meeting, ready to ready to defend his inaction with manners or some other bullshit. Instead he just looked down a little. “You’re right, I should have. I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen again.”

Skepticism highlighted her features but she moved aside with a short exhale either way. “Come in, we’ve been waiting.”

A few minutes later he was standing at the door as Mina gathered everything and passed it off to him. The diaper bag was under his arm, bag pack on his back, and carrier in his hand as their six-month old stared up at him with wide grey eyes. He smiled gently down at her, surprised at how happy he was to see her.

“Jean, are you listening?”

His attention snapped back to Mina who was standing with her hand on her hip. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it until I saw her but, I don’t want to skip a week ever again. I missed her.”

“That’s easily avoidable if you don’t behave the way you did last week.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Mina sighed heavily and leaned on the wall beside her. “You have to do better, Jean.”

“I know.”

“You always say that, but do you know? Do you really? I mean every time I think you’re getting better, every time it looks like you’re abandoning old habits, you go and prove me wrong. I mean what happened with Thomas. That,” She shook her head. “That was completely unacceptable,”

“I know.”

“You don’t get a say in who I spend my time with. You can’t tell me what to do and you certainly can’t come in here and assault my guests. We’re not married anymore Jean—”

“Jesus, Mina, I know!” He took a breath, muscles tense. “I know. I just,” When their eyes met, it was the most genuine he’d been a long while. “I wasn’t ready for you to move on. I guess part of me thought that if I went to treatment, got help like you said, and you saw that I was doing well, maybe we could give this another shot. And when I saw Thomas here, with you, that little bit of hope was obliterated and I couldn’t handle it.” He released fists he hadn’t realized he’d made and looked brokenly down at the woman who still had his heart. “For what it’s worth, Mina, I really did love you. I still do.”

“I’m sure that’s true Jean, but I need to be with someone who loves me more than themselves.” She reached past him and opened the door. “Now, Rose hasn’t been feeling well so you might need to take her to the doctor. And watch for a fever, okay?”

He just nodded and she bent down and kissed the baby on the forehead and told her goodbye. To his surprise when she rose, she did the same to him, holding his face on either side and placing soft lips on his cheek. Then she pulled away. “Goodbye, Jean.” And shut the door.

The company of music did nothing for him in his remorse as he drove home so he turned the radio off. Mina’s goodbye was loud in his mind, and final, like there was nothing more to be said. The gravity of his fuck-up weighed heavily in his chest to his surprise. He’d always acknowledged the possibility of them getting back together, even though he’d never placed much faith in it. He supposed he knew it wouldn’t happen but had allowed that small bit of hope against his better judgement. At least now there was no mistaking it, no miscommunications— she didn’t want him back. Time to move on.

As the night closed in and he performed his fatherly duties, reveling in the comfort of his daughter’s presence, he remembered the email he was supposed to be sending Erwin. Once Rose was asleep and he had a glass of scotch firmly in hand, he sat at the table with his lap top. At least the chore of retelling the session as a way to practice empathy would distract his mind from his previous encounters with Mina and more importantly, the dull ache slowly consuming his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Narcissistic Personality Disorder
> 
> Those with this disorder may...  
> 1\. Have a grandiose sense of self-importance  
> 2\. Have a very strong sense of entitlement, e.g., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations  
> 3\. Be exploitative of others  
> 4\. Lack empathy  
> 5\. Be envious of others or believe that others are envious of them  
> 6\. Regularly show arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine.” he started, and Levi looked up at him. “I’ll do better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

As the last of the therapy goers filed out of the room, Erwin turned to Levi cleared his throat.

“How long ago did you hire Eren?”

“About a week ago.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow. “Before or after our last session?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not right now. But since I’ve been made aware that two clients have entered a relationship that makes them unequal, I may have to ask you to sign some more paperwork.”

Eren, who had since sat down, and whose bored expression was quickly turning impatient, cut in then. “I don’t understand why the big deal is. I got a job, that’s a good thing, right?”

Erwin nodded. “Of course it is. But when your new boss is also part of your group, there are potential ethical concerns to be aware of.”

“You don’t trust Levi or something?”

Erwin looked between the two of them. “Should it be an issue of trust?”

Levi sighed. “The kid’s just talking about things he doesn’t understand. I consent to the paperwork, if you deem it necessary.”

“For now, why don’t we just see how this goes?” The doctor gathered various things from the room as he spoke, gesturing for them to follow him as he then left. “I couldn’t allow us to go into the events the two of you shared during the session because we were going to go over our time. But I don’t mind staying for little while if either of you want to discuss what happened.”

Eren looked to Levi, wondering if he would tell Dr. Smith about his episode in the bathroom earlier. Levi shrugged. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

Erwin nodded and looked back at him. “Eren?”

Eren concealed a hiss as Levi’s elbow prodded his side for the fiftieth time that night. He kept his expression calm as he responded. “No, I’m good.”

They had reached Erwin’s office. He unlocked it and reached into the room, turning on the light. “Eren, why don’t you take another look at your treatment plan? I included some strategies on how to avoid outbursts. I think it would be very helpful to you.”

“Sure.”

He smiled at them. “Good. Have a good evening you two.”

The door closed behind him and they were left alone. Eren turned on Levi, closing the distance between them quickly, the irritation he’d been staving off spilling out into the quiet hallway. “What the hell—”

Levi raised a silencing hand as he walked around him. “Not here.”

Begrudgingly he followed, silent until they reached the steps beyond the entrance of the center. Levi faced him, expression expectant and patient. He looked like a parent waiting for their child to finish their tantrum, and it made Eren all the more upset. He bit the inside of his mouth and scoffed. “Why did you out me like that?”

Levi shoved his hands in his pockets. “When I hired you, I did so conditionally. What was that condition?”

He remembered the conversation well, and suddenly felt caught. “That I make an effort in treatment.”

“Exactly.” 

Eren looked away then, staring at the cars as they went by. Levi was right— whether he wanted to participate or not, he’d agreed to that term. So if Levi thought he wasn’t trying hard enough, then he wasn’t. It was that simple. And it was frustrating. Who the hell was he to comment on his efforts, like any of this was easy? Like he wanted to do any of this? He leaned on a nearby lamppost, whose light was flickering to life. The sun was low in the sky and would soon disappear beneath the horizon, bathing the now bright world in somber shadows and that twinge of limbo that threw his sense of time off balance and brought forth a gentle haze in his mind before nightfall. The wind rustled the sleeves of his jacket and he imagined the scene around him as it would be soon, covered in snow and frost. The image calmed him as he returned his attention to the man checking the time on his phone.

“Fine.” he started, and Levi looked up at him. “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” Levi placed his phone back into his pocket and fully faced him. His pale skin was luminescent, almost aglow, silhouetted against the darkness of the building. His grey irises seemed to pulse as he lowered his eyelids and Eren found himself entranced again by the strange aura emanating towards him. The wind picked up once more and swept Levi’s hair about his face, emancipating his gaze as he caught himself staring. He let out a trapped breath as discreetly as possible.

“Let me walk you home.” 

The request blindsided him. “What?”

“While I expect you to commit more to treatment, you’re right— I shouldn’t have shared something with the group that wasn’t mine to share. Let me walk you home, we can take a look at your treatment plan. Maybe you’re not using it because you’re incapable of understanding it.”

His instinct was to take the comment as an insult. But thinking back to the papers shoved inside of his desk drawer and the frustration he couldn’t get over every time he so much as read the title, he thought it wiser to accept the assistance. So he turned away and begun walking towards his apartment, grumbling “Whatever you say.” 

The reds and oranges of the sunset were quickly dissolving into purples and blue, signaling the coming of night and warning the earth and all its people to prepare for the darkness sure to ensue. As they walked, the street lamps were turning on, one by one, just as they passed. Every new ignition of light caught him off guard, illuminating the area around the two as they went, changing the look of the sidewalk, the walls, and the surrounding cars from something bracing and hot to something seemingly more fluid and cool. Eren inhaled deeply and chill air filled his lungs, cooling him from the inside out.

“Hey,” Eren looked up, breaking away from his observations as Levi stopped. “Did you hear that?”

He frowned, stilling for a few moments until he was sure he didn’t hear anything. “No.”  
But Levi was gone, headed in the opposite direction. He walked after him as he rounded the corner into an alleyway. Halfway through it, the smallest of whimpers pricked his ears. He strained his head to hear better, following the sound behind Levi to a dumpster. When he suddenly stooped, Eren was quick to move around him and hoist the lid up and over the back of the bin. He dug through the various rubbish, the sound growing as he moved things out of the way. Quickly he came to a suspicious looking shoe box. He grabbed it and kneeled down to open it. It was wrapped in bubble wrap and a few plastic bags and it smelled rancid. He expected to see some sort of animal held within, but when finally he was able to free its top, he was shocked to find not a single animal, but five tiny puppies. Four weren’t moving, but one completely black one, eyes still closed, was whining with all its might.

Eren looked up at Levi, whose expression was as neutral as it ever was. Only his slight frown betrayed any sort of emotion. “I think they’re okay.” He stood, clutching the box closely to his chest, watching to make sure they weren’t too disturbed by his movements. “But they need help.”

Levi beckoned for him to follow. “There’s an animal hospital not far from here.” 

…

The waiting room was empty then they walked. Eren set the box with the puppies on the counter and Levi went up to the receptionists, explaining quietly what’d happened. a side door opened and a familiar face appeared.

“Oh, hey guys. What’s going on?”

Eren had to search hard to match the face to a name. During the two therapy sessions he’d attended, the man had barely spoken. Usually his lanky frame was sweater laden, and his height was hidden sitting in the conference room chairs. But standing in the doorway, readjusting a surgical mask in navy scrubs, Bertolt was much taller than Eren had first thought.

“We found these puppies abandoned in a dumpster.” Eren said, stepping forward and showing him the box in his arms. “Do you think you can help them?”

Bertolt nodded, taking the box and looking inside. “They’re very young, I’ll need to examine them. You guys can wait out here if you want.” Then he was gone, disappeared behind the now closing door. Eren took the closest seat and folded his hands. His knee was shaking as he worried over the state of the baby animals now in good hands. They couldn’t have been but days old, newborn and defenseless. They couldn’t even see for the love of God and some prick had just thrown them away. Like trash— discarded as if they weren’t living, breathing creatures. It was disgusting.

“Calm down, Eren.” His head snapped up to see Levi sitting down beside him, arms crossed. “You blowing a gasket and destroying animal hospital property won’t help them any.”

He looked down where his hands were violently pulling at the arms of the chair and let go with a scoff. “Don’t tell me not to be angry about this.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you to control it.”

He was going to defend himself further, point out that only a complete scumbag would do something like this, and that he had every right to blow a gasket if he wanted to. But instead he just sighed, and tried to let it go. A few minutes went by before a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Levi,”

“Mmh?”

“How did you know they were there? I mean, we were kind of far away. You got, like, superhearing or something?”

Levi closed his eyes and leaned into his hand, elbow resting on the chair. “I guess I got good at listening out for distress as a kid.”

“Bad neighborhood?”

“My mom was really sick.”

“Oh.” Eren wasn’t expecting that. “Is she… better, now?”

“She died.”

“Oh,” and then, like an afterthought, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no use being sorry about things you can’t change, kid.”

Eren folded his hands in his lap. “Yeah but that still sucks.”

Levi didn’t respond and Eren didn’t prod. If there was anything he was learning from therapy, it was that people shared when they were good and ready and no amount of coaxing or coercion would change that. Instead he stared at the white floor of the animal hospital and practiced patience as the time passed. He snuck peeks at Levi’s calm form here or there and questions begun to bubble inside of him. His mom had been sick? With what? And what about his dad? Where was he? How old was Levi when she died? How else was his childhood? Did he have any siblings to help him through it? Suddenly he was caught between burning curiosity and respecting the fact that discussing parents was a sore spot for some people. It was for him, so maybe it was for Levi too. So he bit his tongue, exercising some amount of self-control instead and busying his mind with other miscellaneous things.

Finally, the door opened and Bertolt was there, gesturing for them to follow. He led them into a small room in the back where the puppies were in a big, padded container, sleeping. “Well, they’re all fine, just a little malnourished but nothing we can’t fix. It’s a good thing you found them when you did though. Too much longer and they wouldn’t have made it.”

Eren walked around him and peered at the puppies, searching for the black one and finding him in front of all of the rest. He looked back to the shy vet. “What happens to them now?”

“We’ll care for them until they’re old enough and strong enough to live elsewhere. Then we’ll put them up for adoption.” he informed them.

“I still can’t believe someone pulled some crap like this.” he said, hooking his fingers into the container.

Levi shrugged. “People are shit.”

Bertolt smiled a little. “Well I don’t know about that. Most days I prefer the company of animals. People are harder to understand.”

“Because they’re shit.” Eren agreed, pulling his attention from the rescues. Bertolt maintained his smile and after some small talk, lead the two back to the waiting room where hid bid them goodnight. Afterward, Levi decided to let Hanji handle closing up and they resumed the walk to Eren’s apartment. 

…

“It seems pretty straightforward to me.”  
Eren shook his head from where he sat on the bed, watching as Levi flipped through the paperwork for the third or fourth time. “I guess I just can’t seem to figure out how to put it into practice.”

“Alright,” Levi pinched the page at the corner and walked over, sitting beside him. He pointed to a table on the page. “This outlines what you’re likely to feel or do in response to your anger naturally and on the other side, suggestions for what you should do instead are listed.”

Eren took the papers from Levi, ignoring how surprised he was at the softness of his fingers as his own brushed against them. He looked at the page, thinking in earnest of how he could implement the strategies. “Well, I’m sure as hell not going to remember all of this. Maybe I should, like, make them into reference cards or something?”

“Interesting idea. It might actually work.”

Eren nodded, scanning the page further and flipping it to do the same to the one afterward. “Eventually pinpoint possible origins of or attributions to the onset of IED.” he read aloud, before turning to Levi. “What does that mean?”

Levi took the papers from him, setting them on the comforter beside him. “It just means figuring out why the hell you’re so angry in the first place.”

“Oh,” Eren paused for a moment, fixing his gaze to the ceiling. “I don’t think I know how I got like this, or why. I guess I’ve just always been this way, even before.” He released his posture with a sigh, falling back onto the bed, keeping his eyes upward. He thought about what Levi had told him about his mother and felt compelled to even out the playing field. “My mom died too.”

Levi didn’t respond, only allowed the silence between them to grow, allowed the creation of a space in which Eren could continue to share, stay silent, maybe even rant a little, or a lot— whatever he so chose. He was grateful for it. There weren’t many people who could so easily do something like that so he decided to take the opportunity to speak without fear of judgement. 

“My dad was abusive and beat on us a lot. I didn’t handle it well— got into a lot of fights at school, constantly in and out of the hospital, causing trouble left and right. Those hospital bills probably weren’t cheap and my mom was stressed out and afraid all the time. I know I wasn’t any help to her.” Memories begun to replay before his eyes, flashes of swinging limbs, tears, and blood. He but his lip before sitting up and brushing off the haunted feeling creeping into his shoulders. “Hey, do you want a drink or something?”

Levi nodded and they went to the kitchen. He poured them each a glass of whisky over ice and slid one over to Levi. They drank in silence, each lost in thought and peering over the edge of their glasses into memories and, for Eren at least, feelings he didn’t want to feel. Childhood trauma wasn’t normally the best topic of discussion with new guests, but he realized quickly that they, along with the rest of the group, existed outside of the norm. Isn’t that what therapy was, anyway? A way to get back to the mean? To normalize? He wondered how he measured up to the others on the abnormal scale and let his attention slip to Levi who was sitting at the island, swirling ice in his empty glass. He happened to turn his head at the right moment and when their eyes met, he understood very clearly that Levi knew that Eren wouldn’t be sharing any more for the night. He saw in the steely depths of his gaze something that signaled the other man identified with him deeply and Eren wanted to know how. “So, what about you? Do you know why you’re messed up?”

“Not the words I would have chosen but,” He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Silence. “Are you going to tell me?”

Levi set his glass down and stood up. “I think we’ve shared enough tonight.” He walked to the door and Eren followed, setting his glass down as well. At the door, Levi looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for the drink, kid.”

Eren nodded as Levi opened the door and stepped into the cold night. He watched, perched in the doorway, as he walked down the sidewalk and back to his own home. He watched until Levi’s slender frame had blended into the scenery, lost in the darkness that clung to everything. He watched until he was gone, and then watched some more, suddenly trapped inside the feeling of not wanting to be alone. But it was getting late, and they both had work in the morning, so he pushed it away and blamed it on the alcohol. Closing the door, he contemplated pouring another glass but considered perhaps it was better to let sleeping dogs lie, and simply cleaned up instead, returning their glasses to the cabinet and shutting of the lights.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Better.” he said. “Sometimes it gets bad, but it always gets better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I just wanted to say that as we go through this story, if you're reading it and you find yourself identifying with the struggles of the characters, or are experiencing anything that they may go through, I just wanted to say that you're not alone. There are resources out there for you, and people who want to help. And people who care. I can't do much just yet, but if you find you need someone to talk to, drop me a line in the comments. We can talk. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter.

Connie opened the passenger door and stepped in, setting the papers on the dashboard as he did so. Sasha was at the wheel, watching him. “Is everything okay?” she inquired as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

“Yeah,” he responded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Dr. Smith gave me the results of the blood test from a few weeks back. I’m good.”

She started the car. “Okay.”

The drive home was silent and Connie kept his gaze on the scenery as they passed by it, doing his best to ignore the way Sasha would look at him every few minutes. He guessed she could feel it too. It didn’t surprise him, they’d know one another since they were kids, and she was astute enough to notice. But it did validate the apprehension he’d been experiencing lately, the feeling that he was slipping into a different mood again.

When they got home, he set down his things and headed for the bathroom. The medicine cabinet was messy, as always, but the bottle he needed stood out among the disorganization. He reached for it, holding it loosely between his fingers, hesitating. Sasha was sitting on the bed, watching him again. He sighed, and looked over at her.

“Do you ever just wish that…” He started, gripping the bottle a little harder.

She pursed her lips in a sad smile. “Yeah.”

“Same.”

He pulled his phone from his back pocket and checked his calendar, verifying it was indeed time to take the pill. The upside of the medication always seemed worth its risks. It had been a long time since he’d had an honest manic episode. The last one had been three years ago, prior to treatment and it had resulted in a room full of unnecessary splurges, trips all over Europe, and a drained bank account. The natural high in those times were hard on everything; his body, his money, and the girl he loved. It was like playing helicopter as a kid— just boundless energy and spinning, spinning around until he was out of breath and trapped in a spell of dizziness that incapacitated him. It was like being out of control. And the fear of it ever happening again was powerful motivation to continue taking his medicine. So after making sure enough time had passed since he’d taken his last pill, he ran the water and scooped some up with his hand, putting it and the medicine in his mouth before swallowing.

“You gonna be okay?” Sasha asked form the bed.

He smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. “I always am.” 

…

Connie pulled the covers further around himself, keeping his eyes on the TV screen. He didn’t know what was on it, just that it was on, and had been on, for the past couple of days. He checked the time and sighed, trying to muster up the motivation to get off the couch. He had work in an hour. But did he really have to go? In the grand scheme of things, was it really necessary? What would he lose by missing out on one shift? He reached for his cell phone and called his boss. One sick day wouldn’t hurt anybody, right?

…

The week continued and therapy had come and gone. He didn’t share anything that day. Sasha had a dinner date with Historia, which happened every so often so the two could keep in touch, being high school friends and all. She’d asked if he needed her to stay, he told her to go. And now, the night had come and she wasn’t home yet. His eyes were open, but not seeing. He wanted to sleep, but it would not come. And that, was honestly the worst.

The darkness around him was deep and cold, hypnotizing and cumbersome, and it pressed into everything. His lids were heavy and every part of his body told him he was tired. But he couldn’t rest. So he just laid there, like always. Just took up space, like always. Did nothing, said nothing, thought nothing. There was nothing beyond him, in the bed, alone, so why even bother with anything else?

…

“Hey,”

He felt Sasha’s weight on the bed before anything else. But he didn’t look at her. His voice was tight. “Hey.”

“So I got Hannah to switch shifts with me so I could cover some of yours. I’ll have to pull some doubles since you’re not feeling well.”

“Okay.”

He felt her hand on his back, rubbing in small circles. “Do you wanna talk?”

“No.” He blinked a few times, trying to slow tears that had come out of nowhere. “But, can you stay?”

He felt the kiss she pressed into his shoulder and wiped at his eyes. “Sure.” Then she climbed into bed and under the covers, draping an arm around his waist and nestling into the crook of his neck. Time passed as it always did and Sasha had fallen asleep. But he was still awake, lost in the fog. He hoped it would lift soon.

…

When therapy came around again, he really didn’t want to go. The shower he took woke him up a little, but beyond that he still felt groggy and fatigued. Not even Sasha’s cooking was enough to motivate him. In the car on the way there she reassured him that he didn’t have to talk. He just nodded.

When the session began, he kept quiet, didn’t engage. He wasn’t really sure what was happening, only that Jean and Eren seemed to be arguing. Whatever they were saying was too loud and he didn’t care about it. Then they were all looking at him and Sasha was holding his hand apologetically. But he wasn’t angry, he knew the rules.

“Are you okay, Connie?” It was Bertolt who’d asked. And he shook his head.

“Yeah, I’ve just been kinda down for the last couple of days.”

“Dude,” Eren started. “It’s been, like, two weeks that you’ve been… like this.”

Jean scoffed. “You can say the word ‘depressed’.”

“Erwin told us to be supportive of one another, that’s all I’m trying to do.”

“You can’t support someone if you don’t acknowledge what they’re dealing with.”

“And how is you two going at it again gonna help?”

“Guys, please. Can’t we just be civilized with one another?”

“I’m just saying there’s no use—”

“Let’s not talk about—”

“Maybe he should try—”

Connie looked between them without comprehension. Instead he followed their prompts, nodded when he thought he was supposed to, saying ‘thank you’ when he felt it fit. The fog was all around them, obscuring their faces and muting their voices. The only thing he could sense was Sasha’s hand in his. Her firm grip held him steady, like a crutch, like an anchor.

…

The sun shone intensely through the window, causing Connie to stir. He yawned and sat up, feeling a slight pressure behind his eyes. As he stood, he thought there was something off about the room. It seemed brighter.

In the kitchen Sasha was finishing breakfast. A big breakfast. On the counter she’d laid out pancakes, French toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, fruit, grits, hash browns, and orange juice. 

“What’s all this?” he asked from the doorway.

She jumped a little. “Oh, I was going to surprise you.” She stood awkwardly for a moment. “Surprise?”

“So, how much of it is mine?” He smiled, a small smile, but the first one in a while. He saw the relief in her eyes as he walked into the kitchen. “Just the eggs, right?”

“Yeah, that was the plan. But if you keep that goofy grin for a while longer, maybe you could have some more.”

He put his arms around her in the next moment, pulling her close. She hugged back, tightly, and he could hear her small sniffles as she leaned into his shoulder. If it was up to him, he’d stay like that forever— in his pajamas, hugging the woman he loved, in a warm kitchen with the smell of a good breakfast hanging about. But it wasn’t up to him. All he could do was hold her more. 

“Thank you, Sasha.”

…

Connie awoke the next day with a plan. He didn’t want to take any more medicine, for fear of it being dangerous, so instead got dressed and went for a run. The cold air stung his face as he ran the track around the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky as it approached noon and it felt great to be outside again after nearly three weeks stuck in the house. Winter was right around the corner but it was just as bright as it always was, but not hot, a good combination to keep him focused on his goal of running the track three times. He wasn’t the biggest fan of exercise but he found when his depression was on the downswing, it helped to move it along. It also helped with some of the side effects of the medicine. While he could still sense the fog in his thoughts, warping his perception and tainting the usual beauty he found at this time of year, and he could still feel it in his movements, that heavy fatigue pulling him done with each step he took, it was still a good day. He was on the cusp of a better mood and he closed his eyes, letting out a loud whoop! in celebration.

Suddenly, Connie was on the ground, thrown back from a collision with some unseen entity.

“Haven’t you ever heard of watching where you’re fucking going!”

Connie sat up and met familiar, angry eyes. “Eren?”

Eren blinked and the emotion dissipated. “Oh, hey man.” He stood up offering Connie a hand. “Sorry about that.”

For what specifically Eren was apologizing for, Connie wasn’t sure. But he took the hand he was offered anyway and was helped to his feet. “Do you, like, run here or something? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Eren looked embarrassed. “No, no. Recently I started, uh, walking to blow off steam. It… calms me?”

“I get that.” They had started walking, hands safely inside pockets, as they continued talking. They’d eased into a conversation more quickly than expected. “So what’s got you upset?”

“I had a dick customer at work, and since I didn’t want a repeat of last time, I decided to just leave the situation. It’s actually something Reiner suggested.”

Connie frowned. “Last time?”

“Yeah, my last job was as a barista. Some guy didn’t like the way his latte was made or some shit and cussed me out for it. Next thing I knew we were fighting and since I technically threw the first punch, he pressed charges. It’s why I go to group in the first place. It’s either that or prison.”

“Damn.”

“Anyway,” Eren’s expression changed to something far more concerned. “How are you feeling? It seemed like you were having a hard time these past few weeks.”

“Better.” he said. “Sometimes it gets bad, but it always gets better.” He stopped then, turning to face his acquaintance. “And you? How’s it going for you? You seem to be getting more involved during the sessions.”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling kinda riled up lately.”

“Do you know why?”

Eren turned away to look at the playground and Connie did the same. He didn’t know what the other saw there, but he looked anyway, watching as the children chased one another and parents took pictures. For a brief moment, he imagined himself and Sasha amid those parents, and the thought sent a jolt through his body. But it was a good feeling, and he liked it. When he turned back, he found Eren staring at him, having finished whatever he was thinking about. 

“You know what it is? It’s that horsefaced motherfucker.”

Connie considered the word and knew immediately who he was talking about. “Jean?” At the confirmative nod, he busted out laughing. It was a long laugh, and it felt so good. But what Eren had said was even better. “Oh my God dude, he totally looks like a horse! Bruh, I gotta text Sasha, she’s gonna love that.”

After sending the message and shaking off the residual laughter, Connie addressed Eren again. “Anyway, why’s Jean got you all angry?”

“He just pisses me off. Every time he opens his mouth I want to punch him in his face. He sounds so arrogant when he talks, like he’s entitled to everything— it drives me insane.” Eren spoke with his mouth and his hands as he conveyed this to Connie, who nodded knowingly. 

“Jean is a piece of work, sure. But did you ever think maybe that’s his thing? We’re all in therapy for a reason, right?”

Eren kicked a rock aside, looking down. “I know. I get that I can’t blame him for my feelings but,” He shrugged. “That’s how I feel. He frustrates the hell out of me and I can’t seem to get over it. You ever feel like that?”

“Of course.”

“Well, what do you do about it?”

Connie hadn’t been expecting the question, but had an answer at the ready. “You busy right now?”

…

Connie handed Eren a bin, which he took but looked extremely confused in doing so. “Alright let’s fill it up.”

Eren looked from the bin to Connie and back again. “With what?”

Connie hoisted the top of the recycling side of the dumpster and peered inside. “Bottles, duh.” And he reached in, recovering as many unbroken beer bottles as he could. It didn’t take long before the small bin was full, but he grabbed a few more, for good measure. 

“Connie, what are we doing?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

He reached for the dumpster’s lid and pulled it forward. But the liquid on his hands compromised the motion and it slipped from his grasp, banging loudly into place. They both froze for a moment, staring at one another.

“Maybe they didn’t hear us?” Connie offered, moving to the where Eren was standing. Just then, the back door to the bar opened and the owner stepped out, searching expression finding them immediately. 

“Springer, is that you!”

He took off, cursing beneath his breath. Eren ran too, not needing any encouragement as the owner gave chase. They ran down the street, a few bottles falling off and breaking behind them, causing the owner to stop dead in his tracks. He wished he could say he planned it, but instead he called over his should “We’ll bring the bin back, promise!”

He led Eren a block or so further, where an abandoned department store rested amid an empty lot. The property wasn’t old, but neither new, and it stood in okay condition, mostly fine with the exception of graffiti scattered about it. Eren set the bottles down when they stopped, bending over to catch his breath.

Then he fixed Connie with a reproachful glare. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to prison for you.”

“Stealing recycling isn’t illegal, dude.”

Eren exhaled. “What about whatever we’re going to do?”

Connie thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Eh.” Ignoring Eren’s face, he grabbed a bottle, holding it up for him to see. “Okay, so it’s pretty simple. Grab a bottle,” Then he hurled it at the side of the building, and nodded contently when it was smashed. “And throw.” At Eren’s skeptical expression, he reached for another bottle and handed it to him. “Give it a try.”

Eren took the bottle and considered it for a second before sending it flying. It hit the wall and shattered, spraying stray glass at them. He looked at Connie with a grin. “That felt good.”

He nodded. “Yeah. But maybe you should throw from farther away, I’m not trying to lose an eye today.”

Connie grabbed another bottle and let it fly, gratifying feeling curling in his stomach as it was destroyed. He’d been engaging in this method of stress relief since high school, and while the location may have changed, not much else had. He still loved the feeling of the bottle leaving his hand, knowing it would be obliterated soon. He still loved the sound of the glass as it broke, imagining it was anything else. Maybe it was his feeling of worthlessness he threw at the wall, or the time he’d wasted unable to get out of bed. Maybe it was his fear of being out of control or relapsing. Whatever it was— frustration, anger, depression— he threw it at the wall, and it went away. The sound filling the air was shrill, and satisfying. It rang out into the day like a call, like a beckoning. It said, maybe you can’t win in the long term, maybe what you’re struggling with will never change, but in this instant, you’re in control. In this instant, you can shatter everything. 

Adrenaline had built up a little in his system and the fog was completely gone, lifting further with each bottle he threw. He wiped his nose and laughed, feeling genuinely good for the first time in weeks. Glass was everywhere, but he didn’t think about it. The only thing he could focus on was the noise ringing out around them, like a battle cry. It was invigorating, and he wondered if Eren could feel it too.

He looked over at Eren, whose eyes were wide and wild. The green held within was alive, and roaring. Eren seemed to have an electricity about him as he threw those bottles. And Connie thought that he wasn’t just angry, he was anger, living and breathing in human form. Whether that was good or bad, he didn’t know. All he knew was that when Eren looked back at him, he understood what Connie had shown him and nodded his head in thanks.

He thought about the person who’d shown him, imagined her distressed brown eyes that night in tenth grade and took off. “I gotta go!” He shouted over his shoulder as he left. He hadn’t meant to leave Eren so abruptly, and promised himself to apologize later. But it’d struck him that his high spirits were only temporary and that he’d rather spend his energy on Sasha than broken glass. So, as fast as he could, he ran to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Bipolar I Disorder
> 
> 1\. People with bipolar disorder experience periods of unusually intense emotion, changes in sleep patterns and activity levels, and unusual behaviors. These distinct periods are called “mood episodes.” Mood episodes are drastically different from the moods and behaviors that are typical for the person.  
> 2\. Manic episodes are characterized by things such as feeling very “up,” “high,” or elated, having a lot of energy, or doing risky things, like spending a lot of money or having reckless sex.  
> 3\. Depressive episodes are characterized by things such as trouble sleeping, having little energy, or feeling very sad, down, empty, worried or hopeless.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes were closed, moving rapidly beneath the eyelids, the way they did when a person was in a deep sleep, the way they might when a person was unconscious, the way they did when a mind wasn’t present.

Bertolt set the pen down and yawned. Aside from a few appointments, it had been a relatively slow day. He checked the clock, as he had been for the past few hours, and then grabbed his phone. He typed ‘guys, we’re still on for tonight right?’ into the group chat. A few minutes passed, but there was still no response. He supposed that was fair, it was only one o’clock after all. But he hoped they’d respond soon. He didn’t want to be the only one to show up at the restaurant. Because what would he do then? He would look like an idiot sitting at a booth for four all by himself, like a loser. The waiters would probably make fun of him then, or ask him to sit at a different table. And what if the others decided to show then? He would’ve lost their table and they’d all be pissed at him and probably go home and—

The door opened, cutting off his quickly derailing train of thought, and the receptionist poked her head in. “Someone’s here for you.”

He nodded and stood, heading for the waiting room, not entirely surprised when he found Eren waiting for him. “Hey, Eren. Did you come to see him again?”

Eren’s cheeks tinged pink as he stood. “Yeah I found myself with a bit of free time.”

Bertolt held the door open for him, allowing Eren through who headed straight for where the puppies were being kept. It would have been strange he knew where to go, save that he’d been visiting pretty frequently over the past couple of weeks. 

“They’re getting big.” Eren remarked as he looked into the cage. 

“They’re doing really well now, eating and playing like normal puppies.” He watched as Eren pet the black one he’d become attached to through the bars of the cage. “Do you want to hold him?”

The eyes that turned on him were so childlike in their excitement, it nearly knocked Bertolt over. “Of course!”

Bertolt laughed to himself; it was so weird the effect baby animals had on people. It softened their hearts, returned some of the childlike joy to their day. In fact, he found that most of the time, animals were able to incite empathy in human beings. It was nice, added a little hope back into the world. 

As he was nearing the cage, the door opened again, and again the receptionist informed him someone was asking for him. He looked apologetically at Eren and the puppy whose tail had begun to wag the moment the two had seen one another and excused himself. He made the walk to the waiting room, wondering who might be needing to see him this time, considering he had no more appointments. He was initially a little surprised, finding Levi standing by the door this time. “Oh hey, did you want to see the puppies too?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Too?”

It was honestly funny the expressions the two visitors made when they saw one another, both astonished to see each other. He’d just assumed they’d been aware that the other had been stopping by. As a matter of fact, Bertolt had thought it strange that they didn’t just come at the same time considering they’d found the litter together. But he never questioned it. Now they looked a little embarrassed, and refused to make eye contact. As far as he was concerned, being worried about the welfare of an animal was nothing to get flustered about. But whatever. 

Bertolt went over to the cage and opened it, grabbing the black one whose fur was coming in nicely and handing him off to Eren, who cradled him with surprising care. He looked up, big smile on his face. “He’s so soft.”

Before he could respond, Levi was brushing past him, hands outstretched. “Alright, give.”

Eren moved away, sheltering the puppy further in his chest. “No way, I just got him.”

Bertolt watched, openly interested, as the two stared each other down. His instinct was to step in and mediate the exchange, but he had a feeling that somehow, they were working it out amongst themselves. Finally, Eren sucked his teeth and handed the puppy over to Levi who took him and held him up, looking him over. “He looks better.” Levi remarked, holding him closer to his face. They maintained eye contact for a moment before the puppy suddenly licked his nose. Levi narrowed his eyes and Eren fell into a fit of laughter that caused Bertolt to laugh a little too. Something about baby animals.

Levi handed the little one back off to Eren who took him and praised him for what he had done while the other wiped his nose a few times. Abruptly Eren turned his attention to Bertolt. “Hey, can I name him?”

Bertolt shrugged. “Did you have something in mind?”

He didn’t falter. “Titan.”

Levi leaned on the counter shaking his head. “That’s a terrible name.”

Eren frowned. “What’s wrong with Titan?”

“Titan is a species, not a name, dumbass. Or have you never heard of Greek mythology?” He shook his head. “You’re better off naming him Prometheus or some shit.”

“Not everyone’s as anal as you are.” Eren retorted, scratching the puppy behind his ears. “How about it little guy, wanna be called Titan?” The puppy’s ears perked at the name and Eren smiled at Levi triumphantly. Levi just scoffed and turned away, and although he tried to hide it, Bertolt caught the look of reluctant approval on his face, like a parent giving into their child’s wishes, or one partner succumbing to the other.

Bertolt checked his phone and saw the one above the message icon. It was actually nearing time for him to clock out, so he cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to rush you guys, but I kinda have somewhere to be later.”

…

Bertolt checked himself in the mirror one more time, frowning at the way he’d combed his hair. He didn’t like the way the left part framed his face, it made him look too boyish. But the right part made him look downright creepy. So he kept flipping it back and forth until finally he just settled for his usually natural bangs. It took all the positive self-talk he knew not to feel anxious about his outfit. It was casual— long-sleeved black shirt and dark jeans. It was okay, right? Nothing wrong with it, right?

He sighed and grabbed his keys, unwilling to do this with himself again and instead taking his phone and wallet on the way out. He locked the door behind him and walked the short distance down the hall to the other apartment, letting himself in.

“Reiner?” he called as he entered, not sure which stage of getting ready his friend was at.

Reiner appeared from the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel. “Ready.”

They were at the restaurant in under twenty minutes, seated in another ten, and waiting for the girls for another fifteen. They ordered some water, talking casually over their glasses as they anticipated their friends’ arrival. Finally, he spotted blonde hair at the door and soon blues eyes were trained on him. He smiled through his nervousness and waved as Annie and her sister headed towards them. The men rose from their chairs to greet them.

“Little Bert-Bert!” 

“Maria,” He said warmly, hugging her quickly, hiding reddened cheeks produced by the nick name.

“And Reiner too!” The brunette exclaimed as she went in for another embrace, rocking them back and forth, smile touching her eyes. 

Bertolt looked to Annie who was waiting patiently for the displays of affection to end. “Hey.” he said casually.

“Hey.” she responded, thanking him as he pulled out her chair.

Everyone else sat down and Maria looked around the table, blue eyes shining. “So, how’s everyone doing? You’ve been looking after my baby sister while I’ve been away I expect.”

“Who, Annie?” Reiner laughed. “No one can really take care of her, except maybe Bertolt.”

His immediate reaction was a blush and a kick to Reiner’s shin beneath the table. He turned an apologetic smile on Annie whose expression was just tired. He hoped it wasn’t of him. More likely, he reasoned, it was of the woman roaring with laughter across the table at his discomfort, like she always did.

“Ah, I missed you fools.”

“Yeah but traveling must be nice. What’s it been, two years now?” he asked, eager to hear of her experiences across the ocean.

“Setting up hospitals is tiring work, let me tell you, but largely rewarding.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Hey, I don’t want to talk about work right now, I just got back into town. It’s a celebration, right? Let’s have some fun tonight.”

And so the night went on, the small group ordering food and talking about various things going on in their lives. Reiner ordered drinks for all of them, proposing a toast to Maria’s return home and all the wonderful work she’d done overseas. Before they could drink to it though, Bertolt’s worried expression permeated Reiner’s excitement, silently asking him if he was sure. He didn’t know whether or not his friend’s medicine interacted dangerously with alcohol and worried something might happened. But then again, he was always worried something might happen.

“It’s fine.” Reiner said from across the table after they all partook. Then, a little quieter, “I skipped my pill today for this.”

It didn’t really ease his anxiety but the damage was already done. So, he drank some more. Besides, Annie wasn’t much for conversation until alcohol was brought into the mix anyway. She started opening up about work and some of the tough cases she’d had over the past few months, confiding her frustration to the group. It was funny actually, how much vulgarity exited her dainty mouth after some alcohol had entered. He loved her voice, loved to listen to her talk, even if it was to curse out absent clients and a broken legal system. Reiner and Maria were laughing together, and through the haze of being buzzed that was turning into being tipsy, Bertolt noticed the arm Reiner had resting behind her head. They were having a good time, all of them. So he put to bed his worries for a few hours, enjoyed the company of his friends, marveled at the woman next to him, and decided everything would be okay.

…

Bertolt yawned as he sat in his normal chair, keeping a half-shut eye out for Reiner. The night before had ended with the group leaving in sets of two, just as they had arrived, except it was Annie in his passenger seat. They all went back to her house, Maria having insisted on driving with Reiner, where they drank some more and reminisced about their childhood together. They played drinking games and board games alike, and the night melted away faster than he’d expected it to. But when the alcohol finally wore off, and he found himself lying on Annie’s couch while she slept next to him in shorts and a bra, he bolted, gathering Reiner and their things as quickly as he could, thanking the sisters for a great night, and driving off as fast as his car would go.

Now they sat in therapy, showered and fully recovered, and Bertolt’s anxiety was hitting him full force. His thoughts were racing, images of the night before spinning around his head. He remembered everything. They’d left the place a wreck, the sisters probably hated them for that now. And he’d seen Annie in her bra, which he was extremely embarrassed about. What if it was weird to her? What if it ruined their friendship? He didn’t want to offend her, oh God, what if she didn’t want to see him again? And on top of everything else, they probably went through a lot of her booze, a lot. And booze was expensive, very. God, they owed her so much money.

He had to implement his breathing techniques to calm himself down and avoid the chest pains that came with an anxiety attack. By the time he had fully calmed down, the session had begun. 

“Hello again everybody, why don’t we get started?” Erwin asked. Bertolt listened as he explained the task of the day, which was a simple discussion on self-care. “Can anyone explain self-care to the group?”

Connie raised his hand and Bertolt could feel the group tense a little. If he noticed, he didn’t show it, instead answered clearly for everyone to hear. “It’s like anything a person does to take care of their different healths, like mental health, emotional, physical.”

Erwin nodded. “Exactly, Connie. Does anyone have an example?”

“I hunt sometimes to relieve stress.” Sasha admitted. “Does that count?”

Erwin didn’t respond, signaling to the group that the discussion had begun. Ymir looked around before answering. “Well, does it make you feel better?”

“Yeah, I mean, I get out into nature and, I don’t know, it makes me more focused. Like everything else just fades into the background somewhere.”

“Then I think it counts. Your alternative would be, what, stress eating?” The other woman nodded, not offended in the least. “For me, once a month Historia and I go to the spa. That way we spent time relaxing with each other instead of fighting.”

“That sounds nice.” Connie said. “Maybe I’ll try that. Most of the time I just try to get good sleep and exercise regularly.”

“Now there’s some good examples of self-care.” Reiner spoke loudly from his place next to Bertolt, respect in his stare. “Taking care of your body physically is very important if you want to keep feeling right.”

Jean scoffed. “You would say that, you practically live in the gym. Not everyone has time to spend working out every day.”

“Hey, don’t talk shit to him because you can’t make a commitment to better your body.”

It was Eren who’d spoke the distasteful words out in the air, changing the atmosphere as suddenly as he’d spoken them, and Bertolt watched with growing trepidation as Jean narrowed his eyes. “First of all, you don’t know my life, so shut the hell up. Secondly, keep challenging me and I’ll show you just what my body can do.”

Eren’s eye twitched and he was out of his chair before anyone could stop him. “Is that a threat?” His voice was low in the back of his throat, deep like a growl and Bertolt’s hair stood on edge. They’d never had a fight in group, and he surveyed the faces of the others as Erwin attempted to calm Eren. Most looked on with amusement, Levi was annoyed, and Reiner seemed apprehensive. His muscles were a little tight, his stare hard and attentive. Bertolt frowned. 

“Eren, you are not your anger— there are other ways of expressing your dissatisfaction.” Erwin tried.

“I’m just tired of this poser criticizing everyone like he’s perfect, like he’s not sitting in therapy like the rest of us.”

Jean stood up then, keeping eye contact. “I don’t have to be perfect to be better than you.”

They were standing chest to chest, staring one another down. Bertolt looked on, wondering just how long Erwin would allow them to continue. The room was still, tense, and he felt like any movement would set either of the two men off. 

“You think you’re better than me? Prove it.” Eren’s jaw was tight as he spoke, fists formed at his side. Bertolt realized then why it was Eren was there, and realized on the heels of that thought, how quickly he could lose control. The sort of environment the standoff was creating worried him, and he looked to Reiner to make sure his friend was okay.

But Reiner was standing up, a move no one anticipated.

“Easy, guys, easy. There’s no need for all of this.” he was saying, moving towards the two. Bertolt’s chest grew panicked, he could sense how close everything was to going wrong.

Reiner reached to put his hand on Eren’s shoulder. Bad move. Eren’s angry expression turned on Reiner and he preceded to shove the taller man, commanding that he not be touched. The force of the shove was more than Bertolt would have expected of Eren in that it pushed the considerably bigger Reiner back and he stumbled a few steps. That’s when it happened.

Bertolt saw it first. “Eren!” He called out, trying to warn him.

Eren looked up, just in time to find Reiner on him. He kicked one of Eren’s feet from underneath him and grabbed one of his arms, moving quickly and flipping him right there. Eren let out a gasp of air. Bertolt expected the move knocked the wind out of him and he couldn’t really recover; Reiner didn’t give him the time to, restraining him to a position where both arms were held behind his back.

“What the hell Reiner!” he yelled.

Reiner didn’t respond. Bertolt was on his feet then, trying to get a better look at his face, trying to make sure what he thought was happening actually was. Just as he suspected, his eyes were closed, moving rapidly beneath the eyelids, the way they did when a person was in a deep sleep, the way they might when a person was unconscious, the way they did when a mind wasn’t present.

“Reiner?” The call came from Erwin, the older man standing now too. He spoke calmly, but unassured, like he was considering something. His astuteness served him no good in their current situation. 

Bertolt turned to the doctor to confirm his thoughts. “That’s not Reiner anymore.”

His eyes snapped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Generalized Anxiety Disorder
> 
> People may experience...  
> 1\. Persistent worrying or anxiety about a number of areas that are out of proportion to the impact of the events  
> 2\. Overthinking plans and solutions to all possible worst-case outcomes  
> 3\. Perceiving situations and events as threatening, even when they aren't  
> 4\. Difficulty handling uncertainty  
> 5\. Physical symptoms of their anxiety such as sweating, muscle tension, dizziness, chest pains, and more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi scowled. “Look, I’m really trying here, kid.”
> 
> “I never asked you to.”

His hazel eyes searched the room, confused, prepared, ready. By the way he was holding Eren, as if he were being taken into custody, as if he were an enemy, Levi’s mind brought him immediately to thoughts of the military. Reiner had mentioned it before, his time serving as an infantryman. Beyond explaining his background in service, he never really spoke about it. It seemed like a deadly combination now— an unstable mind and the training to kill another human being, but it had never really bothered him before. The look on Bertolt’s face said that it should have.

Eren was struggling, looking around with eyes desperate for an explanation. When he tried to open his mouth, Levi spoke directly to him. “Stay down, Eren.”

“Do you know this guy?” Reiner asked and there was something different about his voice, something sterner. Colder.

“We all do.” Erwin had walked in front of him, breaking the eye contact the two had been maintaining. “Can you tell me why you’re restraining him like that?”

Reiner looked down and back up. “I wanted to stop the threat without hurting him, sir; he’s just a civilian.”

“Do you recognize anyone in the room?”

Reiner looked around, eyes faltering only on Bertolt who smiled. “Besides you and Bertolt, I can’t say that I do, sir.”

Levi watched, impressed at the level of control Erwin had assumed and how quickly he had done so. He smiled. “I think he’s calmed down now, why don’t you two start over?”

Reiner nodded, releasing Eren and helping him up. Eren looked between the blondes, dumbfounded. Reiner extended his hand. “Private Braun, infantry.”

Eren paused, regarding it with suspicion, peering at Erwin for guidance. At his reassuring nod, he shook the waiting hand. “Eren.”

“This is a safe place, Reiner. There’s no need to feel threatened.” Levi heard the difference in Erwin’s voice too— softer, coaxing, supportive. Reiner nodded and Eren took his seat next to Levi who put a finger to his lips when he looked questioningly at him, still alarmed. Erwin remained standing, addressing Reiner in the center of the circle, trying to block his view as Reiner’s eyes looked at the faces of everyone present and then went back to the man in front of him.

“Is everything alright, sir?”

Erwin made direct eye contact with Levi and pointed to a cabinet in the rear of the room. Levi followed and walked over, knowing what he was asking for. He opened the doors and searched for an object he hadn’t seen in a long while. Erwin regarded Reiner once more. “Everything’s fine. I just need you to follow my instructions. Can you do that?”

His posture straightened a little. “Of course, sir.”

Levi shuffled quickly through the mess in the cabinet, grumbling under his breath until his hand brushed the rubber surface of what he was looking for. He pulled the red ball free and tossed it to Erwin, who was putting some distance between himself and the ex-soldier. “Keep your focus on me, Reiner. I’m going to toss you this. I want you to catch it, take a deep breath, repeat what I say, and toss it back.” Reiner nodded to show he understood and opened his hands, ready. “My name is Reiner Braun.”

Levi took his seat, watching as Reiner sat straight and did has he was asked. He caught the ball with both hands, inhaled and exhaled deeply, then repeated back “My name is Reiner Braun.”

Erwin took them through a few different statements— his age, the day, the time, the month, how many people were in the room, a few characteristics of their surroundings, and some other random truths. It took ten minutes before something changed. Reiner caught the ball, inhaled, repeated, but did not throw it back. He was looking past Erwin, staring off into something none of them could see, something somewhere within himself.

“Reiner?” Erwin asked cautiously.

Reiner’s focus snapped to him and he blinked a few times. “Yeah?” Then he frowned at the ball in his hands. “Hey, where did this come from?”

Everyone besides Erwin visibly relaxed in their seats, stressed faces morphing and slacking, betraying their relief. It had been a long time since Reiner last had an episode. And although it had been just as concerning, this personality was different— older and more dangerous. It was a good thing he was a soldier at least; soldiers didn’t ask questions, only took orders. It was also a good thing Erwin wasn’t an incompetent fool or they would have had a serious problem, especially Eren.

Levi looked to his neighbor with a sigh. It seemed the poor kid just couldn’t catch a break and if he knew Eren, which he was somehow beginning to, he would beat himself up afterward. One look at that dejected face and Levi knew he would be present for that beating.

Erwin broke through his thoughts, speaking to the group. “We’re ending early today. Unless it’s urgent, everyone one except Reiner needs to leave.”

Levi rose first, inciting the rest to do the same. He spared no extra glances, except at Eren to beckon him to follow. He found himself heading the silent group down the hallway and out into the waiting room, holding the door open for his company, waiting for Eren who’d fallen behind. Levi wasn’t the doting type, not by any means, but the shadows that had settled beneath the dark-haired man’s eyes were concerning at the very least. His face was blank, devoid of any of the usual flare or fire, and it bothered Levi more than he liked it to. But it was a fair reaction; Reiner’s condition was a lot to come to grips with, even more so when you’d been threatened because of it. He was sure with a bit of time though, Eren could recover.

He released the door and it closed with a soft click behind them, looking up to find Jean in their path, eyes downcast. They stopped, and waited. He wouldn’t look at them, but he spoke very clearly when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Eren just nodded. “Sure.”

Then Jean was gone, disappearing beyond the center’s outer doors and into the world beyond. Levi sighed as they too exited the building, his hand lightly guiding Eren forward by the small of his back, ushering him onto the sidewalk where they paused. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to go visit Titan?”

He shook his head, again.

Levi scowled. “Look, I’m really trying here, kid.”

“I never asked you to.”

That was true, he could acknowledge that much. But he also acknowledged the fact that whatever internal mechanisms directed him, and all other human beings, throughout their lives, whatever structures revolved, spun, and clicked into place within him to form decisions, whatever unexplainable drives guided him through his daily interactions, demanded that he help the hurricane of a young man in front of him. Normally all wind and rain, incontrollable in every facet of his life, constantly verging on destruction, he was calm, passive, still. Levi knew his encounter with Reiner had brought him to the eye of his own storm. 

“Do you have your reference cards on hand?” Levi asked.

Eren nodded.

“Do you want me to help you practice the strategies on them?”

He nodded, again.

Levi started off in the direction of the shop. “Well, c’mon then.”

Eren followed, numb interest showing through his somewhat less blank stare. “Where are we going?”

“Everything comes at a cost.” He put his hands in his pocket. “My help runs the price of a closing shift at my shop with no overtime.” 

They carried on with the sunset on their heels as they walked, and by the time they reached the Tea Shop, they were firmly nestled in twilight. Eren clocked in and set to work, never beyond Levi’s sight. Interacting with the others did him some good and as the night came to a close, he had regained most of his spirit. His confrontational air returned first, regenerating under the encouragement of Oluo’s poking and prodding. He was lured into spats with his senior coworker on several different occasions through the night. If he was being honest with himself, which Levi knew better than to make a habit of, it was a relief to see Eren returning to his usual self.

At present, the aforementioned employee was in the back, scrubbing away at all the dishes that needed to be washed before they closed up. Levi watched the concentration kneed into his brow as he gingerly held the glassware. He wondered if there was ever a moment in the kid’s life where he hadn’t been an open book. He was trying so hard not to break the glass that Levi was willing to scare him and cause just that if only to see the horrified expression that would surely follow. But he didn’t want to have to order a new one so he let the thought slip away.

“You know you’ve been looking at him a lot today.” Hanji’s meddling tone permeated his aside from where she sat, facing the wrong way in the chair next to him. “Green eyes growin’ on ya?”

He ignored her, continuing to count the bills as he had been for the past ten minutes, ready to finish balancing the register. She continued despite his paying her no attention. “You know what that means, right?”

“That he requires the supervision of a two-year-old in order not to fuck anything up.”

“You think he’s cute.”

That warranted his attention, and he turned his flabbergasted gaze on the prying woman, too stunned to say anything. It had been a long time since someone was able to do that to him. He didn’t like it. He shook it off, only able to retort “I’m a grown ass man, Hanji, I don’t think anyone is cute.”

“You should ask him out.”

Again. She’d done it again; stunned him into silence. What the fuck was going on? “If you’re not going to get any work done get your four-eyed face the fuck out of my office.”

She laughed then, loud and bracing. “Oh Levi,” Then she reached out, cupping his cheek in her hand, whispering “You gotta learn to embrace your feelings one of these days.”

And that was it— he’d had enough of her shit. If not for the sudden knock at the door and Eren’s confused face peeking in at them, he would have made sure to wipe that stupid grin off her face for the next few years. 

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Hanji stood. “No, actually I was just leaving.” And finally, she did, brushing past Eren and parting with a no-so-subtle wink. Oh how he hated that freak of a woman.

“Anyway,” Eren started. “I finished.”

“Alright, give me a minute.”

Levi promptly finished counting all the money and the accompanying paperwork before going back out to the floor. All of the chairs had been stacked atop the tables, as per usual, so he grabbed two and set them down at one of the little tables. Eren sat across from him, retrieving small reference cards from his back pocket and handing them to Levi. He crossed his arms, stress seeping into his posture.

“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” Levi asked as he shuffled through the small pile.

“However you want, I don’t care.”

“Alright. How about I read the strategy title and you describe it to me?”

“Whatever you say.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Got something to say?” Eren sucked his teeth but otherwise remained silent. “Remember you asked me to help you. But I won’t if you don’t engage.” 

He looked down then, tint of shame in his face. “I just don’t want to fail again, that’s all.”

Levi sighed and stood, leaving a slightly confused Eren looking after him. He went for the bottom drawer of the cabinet in his office, grabbing the bottle of gin and two shot glasses. He went back to the table, setting everything down. “Here’s the deal; for every card you get wrong, you take a shot. For every one you get right, I’ll do one instead.”

His straightened back told Levi he’d gotten his attention. “Deal.”

While he wasn’t eager to use alcohol as a means of solving problems, in this case the possibility of being able to drink away the disappointment of the day might serve Eren as a good motivator to interact with the material. He really did look like he could use a drink. Sitting down, he hoped the wager wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

They started off slow, giving Eren a few rounds to learn some of the material. Once he got the hang of it, they begun. Watching the brunette’s face scrunch up with each shot he took was extremely pleasing to Levi, like watching a teenager swallow their first ever gulp of the Devil’s nectar. It was, dare he say, fun, until the brat smartened up. After thirty minutes of the makeshift drinking game, he started doing better. And the shit-talk that flew out of his mouth was award worthy, as far as Levi was concerned. More surprising was the type of drunk he was. He was expecting anger and possibly hostility, or at the most deviant from his normal personality, sleepiness. Instead he found himself constantly reorienting his attention, stopping him from attempting to perform dance moves and random tricks alike, trying to reign in the raging energy that had literally materialized from nothing.

Another thirty minutes passed and the bottle was half empty, two thirds of which had been consumed by Eren. Now, Levi was by no means a lightweight so he knew when he turned his head too quickly, and the room tilted a little in his vision, it was time to stop. Levi was definitely feeling it, but Eren was gone. He wasn’t responding at all to the questions and he looked like he was going to fall asleep. Definitely time to stop.

He reached for the alcohol and shot glasses, confiscating them and moving them back to where they’d come from. When he came back, he saw Eren had tried to follow, not making it very far. He swayed and Levi was there, holding him up against the counter.

“M’ bad,” He slurred, grabbing Levi’s shirt to steady himself. “Just drunk ‘s all.”

His breath reeked of the many, many shots he’d consumed in the past hour. “You need to call Armin so he can take you home.”

Eren smiled, big and goofy and completely unexpected. “Armin’s great. Mikasa too. Been there… for me through so much.” His words fell from his lips in a tumble, dragging his smile down with them “So much, Levi. So much.” He leaned his head into the crook of Levi’s neck, his expression making the little hairs there stand on end. His mouth had twisted into a grimace, his eyes closed, eyebrows tense and knit together. He looked tortured. “Been through so much.”

“It’s okay—”

“Not okay, Levi.” His voice was shallow and mangled, twisted by the tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He swallowed and they fell freely. “It’s not okay Levi.”

And for a third time that night, Levi was at a loss for what to say. The hold Eren had on his shirt had turned into a grip, and he was caught in the brunette’s clutches as whatever torment he was experiencing took ahold of him. He was expecting screams and hysterics, the usual emotional expression once alcohol took another person into the depths of their souls. But Eren surprised him again, offering broken whispers instead. “She killed herself Levi.” A heavy sob wrenched from his throat. “She killed herself and it’s my fault.”

He completely gave out then, going limp in Levi’s arms. He held him steady, truly uncomprehending how their night had went to shit in such a short amount of time. But he had bigger things to worry about, namely a passed out Eren whose weight he was completely supporting. Without any way to contact Armin, it was unlikely he was going anywhere. He thought for a moment of leaving him in the shop, set up in the office chair. But, considering the copious amount of alcohol he’d recently consumed, it may not be the safest option.

“Son of a bitch,” he said softly beneath his breath as he readjusted so that he could basically drag Eren along with him. Not thinking much about it, he locked the shop behind him and headed for the entrance to the apartment. When he came to the stairs he cursed again, realizing the only way to get both of them upstairs was to hook his arms beneath Eren’s knees and carry him up the stairs like the brat he was. He murmured useless directions as he led him to his bedroom before placing him atop the comforter, making sure to turn his head to the side. Moonlight caught his face and it struck a chord in Levi, how peaceful he looked. The pain was still present, but the tension was gone and the alcohol and emotion had left his cheeks flushed, red gently complimenting his caramel skin. He looked so vulnerable in his slumber, his tears damn near sparkling in the luminescence, soft and sad and so beautiful that Levi wondered if he’d had more to drink than he’d first thought. A hurricane indeed. 

He shook off whatever spell had momentarily captured him and went to the kitchen. He retrieved a large pot, placing it near where Eren’s head lay. Then he sat at his desk chair, turning and training his eye on his sleeping guest, wondering how in the world the green-eyed man had managed to drag him into the eye of his own personal storm as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Dissociative Identity Disorder
> 
> Characterized by...  
> 1\. The occurrence or evidence of two or more differing personalities  
> 2\. Evidence of personalities that repeatedly take over ones complete behavior.  
> 3\. Turmoil and confusion and poor memory.  
> 4\. An experience of sudden powerlessness to recall important personal background that is beyond average absentmindedness.  
> 5\. Constant or repeated experiences of depersonalization- marked by a feeling of detachment or distance from one's own experience, body, or self.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breeze picked up and his mind flooded with the sight, the sound, and the smell of the water, undisturbed by any other human presence. He understood why Levi might frequent the location, it was like a break from the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of death and suicide.

There she was, standing before him the way he tried not to remember, reaching down slowly, bright smile and golden eyes full of love. She hugged him, the way she did on the good mornings, like the bad nights but without the trembling. Her mouth never moved, but she spoke with her eyes, reminding him she would always take care of him, emphasizing how much she loved him, promising she’d never leave him alone. She wiped his tears away, again, like she always did and he smiled into her touch. But she was cold, and it scared him. So he reached out to her, soft cry caught in his throat as she disappeared at his touch, dissolving into blinding sunlight.

Eren awoke to a room bathed in light, owing to the parted window near the bed he lay disoriented in. As the dream faded behind his eyelids, important questions begun to filter through. He was in a bed, sure, but whose bed was it? He looked around. Everything was unfamiliar, from the small desk in the corner to the floating bookshelves on the wall opposite him. Whose room was he in? He was working to figure it out when suddenly his stomach tightened, and he scrambled from the bed as his mouth begun to tingle and accumulate saliva. With any luck, the door he was stumbling towards led to a bathroom. It seemed he had at least that much good fortune as he doubled over the toilet bowl and promptly vomited what tasted mostly like booze. And stomach acid.

He flushed the toilet before standing and catching his breath. Instances of studying with Levi the night before appeared in his mind and he groaned, beginning to remember just how much he’d actually drank. The most troubling thing was that beyond the last few questions, his memory offered him nothing. He had no clue as to the series of events that led to him standing confused in an exceptionally clean bathroom. His gut told him it was most likely Levi’s.

“Eren, is that you?”

Eren turned to find Hanji walking toward him. Wait, how’d he end up with Hanji? “Yeah.”

“Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

He considered the question, noting his slight headache but otherwise good bearings. “Good. But,” He paused, shyness getting the better of him. “Can you tell me… where I am?”

She smiled. “You’re at Levi’s apartment. Apparently, you two decided to get wasted and spent the night together.”

His stomach lurched again and he felt the heat rise in his face. “T-together?” he stuttered.

Her smile was nothing short of sinister. “Why don’t you hang tight here. I’ll go get him for you.”

Then she departed, leaving him more confused and more panicked than he had been in a while. He went back into the room and looked at where he’d been sleeping. The bed was mostly made aside from where he’d laid and he found his shoes against the wall nearby. There was a large pot on the floor that he’d missed originally, as well as a glass of water on an end table sitting beside a lamp and nothing more. His instinct was to make the bed. Given that someone had offered it to him, it seemed the least he could do. He also put his shoes on and drained the glass of water before setting in inside of the pot and back on the table. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, curious about the rest of the apartment but too anxious to leave the room. He needed to know what had happened.

“Hurricane Eren’s finally active, it seems.” 

He stood immediately at the sound of Levi’s voice, instantly regretting the choice as his head swam and Levi closed the door behind him. Levi raised his eyebrows questioningly and Eren rubbed his neck, painful in his awkwardness. “Yeah I, uh, tried to pick up after myself.” He turned his body a little, trying as best he could to avoid making eye contact due to the fear growing in his chest. “And I, uh, threw up in your bathroom. Sorry.”

Levi’s expression darkened. “While that is truly disgusting,” He sighed. “It’s not completely unexpected. I shouldn’t have let you drink so much.”

“It’s not your fault. Besides, it was nice to forget, for a little while.” Eren pocketed his hands, still feeling awkward but forcing himself through it. “Speaking of forgetting, I can’t seem to remember much after my last shot. Well, anything really.”

He watched Levi’s face, noting how much more serious it grew. It worried him. The other man remained silent, and when Eren finally connected to his gaze, he saw uneasiness lurking there. He tried again. “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

Levi still didn’t say anything and the worry he was feeling was quickly turning into irritation. But he kept himself under control, and braced himself for the worse possible scenario. Finally, Levi shook himself from his thoughts. “Are you busy later?”

“No.”

“I’d rather us talk about it somewhere else.”

That was not helping. Eren grimaced, impatient and deciding just to ask straight out. “Sure. But we didn’t, like, sleep together or anything… right?”

Levi looked surprised. “I find the insinuation that I’d do anything to you without your consent incredibly insulting.” He crossed his arms indignantly. “Do you think that lowly of my character?”

Eren found himself raising his hands in a display of defense. “No, no, it’s just that shit happens sometimes and I wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

Levi rolled his eyes, relaxing. “Look, why don’t you head home? I’m sure your friends are worried about you. Go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll text you somewhere where we can meet up and talk. Sound good?”

“Why can’t we just talk here?”

“Because I’ve known my employees and business partner for far too long.” As he spoke, he turned and opened the bedroom door. From behind it Eren heard the telltale sound of eavesdroppers scrambling to get away, even caught a glimpse of someone’s apron strings as they fled. He looked back. “I figured you’d want some privacy if the topic of your mother came up.”

Eren blanked for a moment. His mother? Why would he be talking about her? What did she have to do with anything? Levi opened the door wider, gesturing for him to walk through, and he did so with the dawning realization that he must have said something about her the night before. He wanted to know more but a sudden fatigue had struck his muscles and shot his will to argue to pieces, so he just gave in to Levi’s plan. He’d find out sooner or later what had been said, and for the moment that was good enough. 

They parted ways at the stairs, him headed in the direction of his own apartment and Levi back towards the shop. He didn’t get very far before he heard his name being called. “Eren!”

He turned around to find Petra, shuffling toward him. “Hey, what’s up?”

She held out a to-go cup, which he took from her without question. She smiled. “Something we came up with a few years ago. It’s a sure-fire way to avoid a hangover.”

“Oh thanks, you guys will have to teach me to make it someday.”

“Of course. I just hope you don’t make drinking contests with Levi a regular activity.”

He blushed. “It wasn’t a contest…”

She laughed. “Well anyway, take care of yourself. We’ll see you later.”

He nodded and waved her off, continuing the walk to his home. By the time he made it to the front door, he was so tired. The arm he lifted to insert the key into the lock ached with heaviness, and it took almost all the strength he had to open the door. Beyond it were the concerned and alarmed faces of his closest friends. He watched the emotions play across their faces, from surprise to relief to irritation. They were probably interrogating him and chastising him for disappearing for the night without letting them know he was okay. But he didn’t hear them. All he could focus on was how happy he was that they were there waiting for him. So he ignored their words, walking towards them and pulling them both into a tight hug.

…

“So, are you going to tell him?”

They sat in their living room, Eren wedged between Armin and Mikasa, sipping on the drink Petra had made for him which was actually making him feel immensely better. At least physically. The subject of Mikasa’s question had been the source of massive internal stress for the past hour or so. He’d received Levi’s text with a location and open ended ‘let me know when you’re on your way’. He sighed. “I have no clue, mostly because I don’t know what I said last night.”

“Do you trust him?” she pushed.

It was a good question; did he trust Levi? The man had been so generous to him over the past month, offering him not only a job but his time and support. But was that enough? He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t distrust him.”

“Yeah, but Eren,” Armin started. “This isn’t easy stuff to talk about. I think the real question is what you’ll gain from it. Do you think talking about this stuff and reopening a painful and deep wound is worth whatever you think you’ll get out of it?”

“I just don’t want it to be awkward I guess, seeing as he’s my boss and all. Besides that,” He paused, setting his drink down and folding his hands. “I dreamt about her last night.”

His mom’s face flashed before his mind’s eye and his hands tightened. It had been a long time since he’d thought about her; he preferred forgetting under most circumstances and had worked hard to bury the memory. But now that it had been dredged up, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Armin’s hand was on his shoulder and Mikasa’s hand went to rest on his knee, rubbing small circles with her thumb into the skin beneath. They brought him back, stopping him from getting lost in the sea of his past. “Tell him.” She said. “It’s not about him. If you think it’ll help you, tell him.”

“After all,” Armin spoke this time. “You don’t have to go into extreme detail. And who knows, maybe he’ll be able to help you somehow.”

Eren nodded, looking at the floor between his legs. “Thanks guys.”

Then he got up, taking his drink with him and going to get ready. The shower did wonders for him, easing some of the stress and anxiety about his upcoming meeting. He washed his face and hair, enjoying the warmth of the water as it spread to every part of his body. When he was finished with his shower he brushed his teeth and dressed in warm clothes. On the way out he grabbed something quick to eat and said goodbye to his friends, inputting the address in his phone’s GPS. It was about a twenty-minute walk, which wasn’t bad, so he started up some music and text Levi to let him know he was en route.

The sun was high in the sky and the October air was bracing and relieving. As it grew colder, the town always seemed quieter. People always liked any excuse to bundle beneath blankets, to be cozy and warm with cups of coffee and tea, so he expected as it grew later less and less people would be out. Most days he favored fewer people, it meant there was a smaller chance of him being bothered. But he was not unlike them, breathing in and enjoying the freezing air as it crowded his lungs. People were scattered about, minding their own business, going about their days, living their lives. It always baffled him how every single human being was at the center of their own universe and yet they all somehow managed to live in the same world.

When the GPS alerted him he’d arrived at his destination, he was surprised to find he’d walked to the nearest beach. Living in an ocean town meant it was never far away, but he found it strange that Levi had asked him there. There was a little hut not too far off sporting the numbers of the address so he went over to it. He had been there before— actually many times, especially when he was ditching in high school— and knew the owner well. If Levi had just text him the name of the hut, he would’ve known immediately where they were meeting.

“Eren?” The blonde man questioned as he neared the counter. “Well I’ll be damned, what are you doing here?”

He smiled at Hannes. “Meeting a friend.”

“Haven’t seen ya in a while, how’s it going? You been keeping out of trouble?”

“About that…” He trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

Hannes just laughed, big and loud and comforting. “Good to know some things never change.”

“Yeah, well how about you? How are you doing?”

“Eh, business is starting to slow down. But I’m not surprised. It’s always like this when the summer ends and it starts getting’ a bit chilly out. Gonna close for the season soon, probably go back to doing maintenance or whatever, y’know, the usual.”

Eren nodded, remembering that while Hannes did own his own sweet shop on the beachfront, he was primarily a handyman. “Living the dream, huh?”

“You bet your ass.” He walked over to the register. “You want anything?”

“Two sea salt pops please.”

Eren jumped as Levi walked up beside him. He didn’t know how it was he was able to sneak up on him for the second time that day. In a past life the man must have been a ninja or something. Or maybe it was because he was short. Either way he recovered quickly and sported a frown. “What’s a sea salt pop?”

Levi paid Hannes, not looking at Eren as he spoke. “It’s ice cream.”

Eren looked up and searched the menu, having never heard of any such item in all the years he’d been coming there. But sure enough, under the frozen section, it stood out in white letters. He frowned again. It really had been a long time since he had been there last. 

“Here you guys go, enjoy.” Hannes said as he handed Levi the popsicles.

Levi accepted them with thanks and handed one to Eren, who thanked Hannes as well and followed Levi as he walked further towards the water. They went along quietly, Eren wondering where exactly they were going. More importantly, what was with the ice cream? He regarded it with mild suspicion, wondering why it had been given to him. It was a pretty, pale turquoise, more blue than green, and its bottom edges were frosted. He sniffed it. It smelled nice enough so he took a small bite off the corner. He was surprised at how good it actually was. It had a weird mixture of cream and sugar and salt that just worked really well. Well, whatever reason Levi had decided to give it to him, he was glad he had.

It wasn’t long before they were approaching a small bench. It was black, and really old, and stood secluded from the majority of the beach in the grass, overlooking the water. Levi sat down and Eren did the same. Then he waited, not wanting to be the one to breach the subject.

“You said she killed herself.” Levi said flatly. Dammit. 

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something I like to talk about, ever.” He crossed his ankles. “Plus, it wasn’t fair of me to pull you into my bullshit like that.”

Levi shrugged. “If you said it, it means it’s bothering you.”

“And your mom’s death doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really. Her illness eventually got the better of her.” He leaned back in the bench. “I did everything I could for her in the end.”

“Well that’s the difference then.”

He twisted the popsicle stick in his hand before eating the rest of it in one bite. They fell into silence. Eren watched the waves, focusing on their sound as they crashed and broke against the shoreline. The breeze picked up and his mind flooded with the sight, the sound, and the smell of the water, undisturbed by any other human presence. He understood why Levi might frequent the location, it was like a break from the rest of the world.

He looked over at his companion whose legs were crossed as he stared out at the ocean. His mind was somewhere else too. But he was waiting, ever patient for Eren as he always seemed to be. He looked back down, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“You know how I told you that my dad was abusive?”

“Mhm.”

Eren swallowed, his mouth unexpectedly very dry. “One night it was really bad. He was after me and she protected me. They fought and she eventually stabbed him.” He didn’t want to fully go into it, didn’t want to see the memories in his mind, so he staid as vague as he could, focusing on the popsicle stick in his hand. But he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hard for him to speak. “And I thought it was over, y’know? But that night she shot herself.” The stick broke in his hand as his mother’s lifeless face flashed behind his eyelids. He blinked it away, feeling the angle curl in his stomach. “And I couldn’t do a thing— not when she was fighting him off, and not when she decided to leave me alone.”

His eyes glazed over but he didn’t feel like crying, just hiding. But he couldn’t. Levi didn’t say anything, but he heard him shuffle beside him and he flinched at the touch when he grabbed his wrists with both hands. Levi’s grip was gentle and firm at the same time, and when he looked up into an expression too sincere for words, grey eyes that promised they understood, Eren decided that every moment that he did trust Levi. But he wanted to know how he could possibly understand.

He waited for an explanation for the look, but he was offered one for the action instead. “You’re shaking.”

Eren pulled away, spent and unwilling to show any more vulnerability that day. Levi let his hands slip from his grasp. “I told you I don’t like talking about it.”

Levi nodded and let silence spread out in the space between them for a few minutes before he suggested “You know, you should probably share this with the group.”

Eren crossed his arms and looked ahead. “Did you tell them about your past?”

“Eventually.” Then he spoke softer, explaining as one might to a child. “It’s the only way to get better, Eren.”

Eren didn’t respond, simply looked out to the ocean again. Ymir’s warning from the first session played in his mind. The real reason he was there, huh? In hindsight, he supposed he’d known all along but was unwilling to face the pain again. And while he was reluctant to admit it, he knew Levi was right. If he wanted to benefit from treatment, this had to happen. It scared him, more than anything had scared him in a long time. He didn’t want to go through it again, open this wound that never fully healed. But he looked at the passive-faced man next to him and was oddly a little less scared. Then another, more distracting, thought struck him.

“Earlier, what the hell did you mean by Hurricane Eren?”

Levi just grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most days he didn’t let himself think of Marcel because he missed him always, and he hadn’t gotten over it yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ended up longer than intended, no clue why. Anyway, I just wanted to give everyone a heads up. My updating will be less frequent starting this Monday because university's starting back up. I'll post as frequently as is within my ability because in my humble opinion, this shit is getting good. Also, I wanted to thank everybody for all the kudos and comments, they mean the world to me so keep 'em comin! Enjoy!
> 
> TW: mentions of death

The fingers pulling themselves slowly through Reiner’s hair provided a comfort like no other, and as he looked up from where he lay in Maria’s lap, he silently thanked God for the woman and her presence in his life. Her long brown hair framed her round face and two baby blue eyes peered down at him with concern as she repeated the motion of combing his hair with her fingers. She knew how it calmed him. It had been the same, ever since they were kids.

“Feeling better?” she asked and he sighed.

“I don’t want to go after what happened last week.” he admitted.

She frowned at him. “I know, but you have to go. You’re doing so good.”

“I was, but now…” His jaw tightened as he remembered blinking at the red ball as everyone left the room the week before, sitting down to talk with Dr. Smith, being told he’d dissociated for the first time in six months, that Private Braun had appeared in response to simply being pushed. He closed his eyes, letting the soft rhythm of Maria’s breathing calm him. 

“I remember the first time you switched.” She remarked, surprising him a little. Of course, he didn’t though. Whenever a different personality stepped in, he disappeared. When he returned, he did so with prominent gaps in his memory, anxiety and a debilitating bought of confusion. It was like suffering a head injury except worse, because sometimes people got hurt.

“I’ll bet I was a mess.” he remarked behind a strange chuckle. 

“Yeah, you had us all pretty scared, especially Bertolt.” She laughed then, her body vibrating a little with the sound. “Poor little Bert-Bert looked like he was gonna pass out.”

“Well, we were just kids after all. He probably didn’t know how to handle someone his own age suddenly claiming to be four years younger, not remembering anything from the past few years. It’s confusing, and stressful.” He frowned, and it felt like the disgust at the memory reached the deepest parts of himself. “Twelve-year-olds shouldn’t have to deal with heavy shit like that.”

The fingers in his hair stopped and instead caressed his cheek. “It’s not your fault, Reiner.”

“Marcel’s death was my fault— I’ve spent my whole life trying to forget that fact. But killing your older brother is a hard thing to forget.” He frowned. “It’s no wonder I’m so messed up.”

His eyes widened as Maria cupped either side of his face and turned it to face hers. Her eyes were stern, lips pursed. “You did not kill Marcel, and I don’t think he’d appreciate you seeing it any other way. Your brother died so that you didn’t have to, and you owe it to him to try to live the best life you can. Being healthy is a part of that. So,” She guided him up by his face, standing while he remained seated and crossing her arms. “You’re gonna get your mopey ass up off my sister’s really nice couch and go to therapy. Do I make myself clear?” 

He blinked a few times before his shocked expression was replaced with a grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now, I’m gonna go make some dinner which you can have some of once you get back.” He looked after her as she left, noting the little pounce in her step. There was a remarkable fire within her, one he’d found himself drawn to it since the day they’d met. No matter how many years passed, no matter how old they grew or how apart they were, he always came back to her. When he went away to the military, thoughts of seeing her kept him pushing through the intense training and brutal conditions. On the really hard days he would call her, and her sweet voice reignited the passion that laid dormant in him whenever they were apart. And now, with her job, the roles were reversed and he was the one waiting patiently for her to come home. Those months when she was around were some of the happiest days of his life— she made everything better. Even in those times when he wasn’t himself, when he awoke to her panicked state, she never ran away. She could see him through his disorder and he loved her for it. They’d never entered a relationship due to how often they seemed to end up apart, but if ever a day came where her job and his health worked out in their favor, he’d ask her to marry him on the spot.

The front door opened and closed, revealing a very tired-looking Annie and cutting off his reverie. He greeted her and she sat down on the cushion beside him, heavy sigh parting her frowning lips.

“Bad day?” he asked.

“Horrendous.” She pulled out her phone and opened what looked like an email app with an unhappy grimace. “And it never ends.” she murmured as she scrolled through what he assumed were messages from clients. For a moment, she paused. “Why are you here, Reiner?”

“I wanted to spend as much time with Maria as I could before she leaves again.”

“Hmm.”

She was back to typing on her phone, disinterested air rising around her. Leaning into his hand, he figured he’d try his luck. “I bet you’re lonely in this big ass house without her.”

“I like my space.”

“Sure,” He shrugged. “By I’m sure it’s big enough for another person to stay here too, without compromising your space, of course. Someone to keep you company.” She didn’t bite yet but he saw her gaze on him from the corner of her eye. “Someone like, oh I don’t know… Bertolt?”

She scoffed. “Again with this?”

He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, I’m just throwing it out there. We’ve all known each other a long time, I don’t see the harm in you giving him a chance.”

Annie crossed her arms, returning her attention to her screen. “I’m not interested in dating anyone.”

“Alright.” Reiner shrugged and stood, conceding only because he really needed to leave if he wanted to make it to the session on time. The sisters didn’t live too far from the center, so once he made it on the road he was there in no time at all. He made his way to conference room C and ignored the eyes that flashed to him as he took his seat next to Bertolt. His friend was the only one who greeted him with a smile, and whose stare didn’t linger long. He just acknowledged him and looked forward, waiting for Dr. Smith to begin, and for that he was grateful. 

Under normal circumstances, he actually enjoyed the hour-long sessions. They were a haven for him, a place where he felt safe and supported. Individual therapy had been different and too formal for his tastes. It was nice to be surrounded by people who at least, on some level, understood what it was to be different, to suffer because of something they couldn’t control. And most of the time, that was enough. But when he switched, it wasn’t the same. Those eyes that normally fell on him with reassurance and comradery turned worrisome, even fearful. Being the focus of so many of the same kind of eyes was the worst part. And that was something they’d never understand.

The severity of his disorder was much more than the rest of theirs and after the two unfortunate times he’d dissociated in their presence, he was starkly aware of it. Most days he didn’t let his disorder define him. Most days he could accept that it was a part of him and take the steps necessary to keep it under control. Most days he didn’t let himself think of Marcel because he missed him always, and he hadn’t gotten over it yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself yet.

Memories seized his mind, flashes of a normal walk home from school, flashes of an argument over which route to take, flashes of a green light and the fatal mistake he made. Reiner’s vison was blurring and he sensed himself becoming more distressed. The words coming out of Jean’s mouth were muffled and distorted and he resorted to attempting to ground himself before he lost himself in the burden of his past. He started repeating. 

My name is Reiner Braun. I am twenty-six years old. I am currently in therapy. Bertolt is my best friend and Maria is the love of my life. Marcel is gone, and that’s okay.

He did it a few times before his heartbeat slowed and his vision returned to normal. Then he was fine. Like magic. Like most days. 

The session continued around him but he didn’t really care to interact, not wanting to discuss his episode more than he had with Dr. Smith the previous week and not willing to offer his opinion considering that same episode. Who’d want to take advice from a crazy person anyway? Not worth the trouble. So instead he sat in his seat with his arms crossed, letting the words of his companions disintegrate into the world around him as he did his best to distract his mind from drudging up any more less-than-pleasant memories. 

…

Eren stretched as his time with the group came to a close. He set his eyes on Reiner, determined. He stood to approach him, but the doctor made it there first. So instead he headed out, deciding to wait for him in the hallway. The wall that he leaned on was beige and boring, and he could smell the building from where he stood alone. He hated old buildings for that reason. They clung on, stubborn and decaying, and even when renovations were made, their smelled lingered. It reminded him how powerful a thing the past was, and how it never seemed to let go.

Reiner appeared finally, last to leave beside Dr. Smith who spotted him immediately upon exiting.

“Hey Reiner,” he called and the other man disappeared, leaving Eren appreciative of their privacy.

“What’s up?” he asked, nearing him with an unsuspecting face. “You doing okay?”

Eren averted his eyes. “Um, I wanted to apologize for pushing you the other day. I wouldn’t’ve done something so stupid if I had known.” He bit his lip, trying to dull the frustration heating up his hands. He had to have more to offer people than apologies all the time. But by the way things had been going lately, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had become a hallmark of his personality.

But Reiner frowned. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah well I just wanted to take some responsibility. And also, ask you something really personal.” He waited. Reiner’s expression didn’t sour, but remained open and patient which made his next question a fraction bit easier to force out. “Do you know why you are… the way you are?”

Something dark passed over Reiner’s features, brief and consuming, and for a moment Eren was sorry he brought it up. But he persisted through the silence and mild shock that had taken ahold of Reiner’s demeaner because he needed to know. If he was even considering opening the door to the traumas of his childhood, he needed to know that other had done the same. It was selfish, but he needed it.

Reiner leaned against the wall with heavy shoulders. Finally he spoke, arms pressed horizontally across his chest. “When I was a kid, about eight years old, I saw my older brother get hit by a car.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eren said, feeling the heat of shame in his face. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No it’s okay. The rest of the group knows, why shouldn’t you?” He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. Eren waited for him to continue. “We were walking home, I wanted to take go a different way than he did. We argued and I got mad and ran away, right into traffic without looking. He pulled me out of the way and got hit instead.” The exhale that he let out was long, and sounded like it had weight to it, like it had come from his soul. “The impact broke his neck and I just watched it happen from the sidewalk he’d shoved me back to.”

Eren didn’t have any words for what he’d heard. He found himself not being able to offer anything more than a simple nod and another apology. He leaned on the wall too, imaging a much younger Reiner draped in a blanket in the back of an ambulance. He wondered if it had been dark green like his own, and if there was anyone there for him or if he had been alone, like Eren had.

He swallowed, turning his head to face the blonde. “You said you told the others?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t have a problem talking about it?”

Reiner shook his head slowly. “It’s never easy. But it helps sometimes. As far as group is concerned, it allowed other people to understand. And when they understood, they were more sympathetic and less judgmental, and a lot more helpful.”

Eren pushed off the wall, sighing. “Thanks Reiner.”

He was going to leave then but he felt a strong grip encase his upper arm, not roughly, but with just enough force to stop him. He looked back into hazel eyes alight with concern he didn’t deserve. “You sure you’re okay? You seemed… off in there today.”

He smiled, just enough to reassure the other man. “I will be.”

Then he was gone, leaving the other in his wake as he made his way back to the waiting room where he wasn’t surprised to see Levi standing at the front door. They had discussed a visit to the animal hospital to check on Titan since it had been nearly a week since they had done so. But not even the playful puppy and all his affection and joy at seeing them was enough to calm the unrest that had built in Eren’s chest. It had been there for a few days, and was the cause for mounting stress that he tried his best to ignore. 

When he got home, he found Mikasa and Armin at the dinner table playing a board game they welcomed him to. But he declined, opting instead for the comfort of his bed. Sleep was the last thing he had to distract himself from the feelings reopening in his chest. But even that wasn’t enough.

In the days that followed, nothing was right. He tried to run it off, like Connie had suggested, which was a nice break for the time it had lasted. He even began running regularly with him after bumping into him two times in a row, grateful for the small talk and the company on those cold almost-winter mornings. One such morning he decided to confide his troubles in Connie, who he found suggested much the same thing that Levi had. But he wasn’t there yet.

In the daytime he was busy at work. He talked with Petra about her relationship with Oluo and about the baby growing ever bigger in her belly. It was coming time for her first ultrasound and she invited him with a smile and a warmth that he really loved about her. He often looked after her as she wobbled around, barking orders and tending to customers, and he knew she was going to be a good mom. And although her baby’s father was an absolute idiot, it was clear he loved them both very much. Eren was willing to bet he’d be a good father too. But such thoughts only worsened his situation.

His nights were, above all, the hardest. Sleep had been eluding him and when it came, it did so in scattered memories and nightmares. His sleep was filled with the terror of his childhood and scenes that he’d long since buried with hate and anger. The worst of them were of the night his mom died, blood crowning her head and painting the top half of her face as if she wore a mask, one made of beautiful red feathers and not of death. He would awake gasping and sweating, confused and afraid, all over again. The best of them were of those rare moments of peace, when they would sit together and watch cartoons on the weekend or go to the park to play. There was always sunlight, her honey eyes, and smiles. In those dreams, he smiled so much it hurt. And he would awake to the sound of his own crying, choking on garbled words and shouts after the phantom of her that would disappear behind his eyelids. Those dreams in his opinion, were the greater of the two evils. He tried not to let it bother him.

The only reprieve from all of the sudden turmoil he faced were those one or two nights in which Levi had suddenly appeared, disrupting the torture, leading him away to the seaside where the night was cold but the body beside him was warm and they would just sit in the calm. From those he awoke feeling dazed, yet rested and calm. He tried to dream of him more often.

His friends noticed the change, but he brushed off their worries and promised he was okay. But overall, the stress of his choice of whether or not to tell the group weighed heavily on his mind and took a toll on his body. In the span of a week, he’d stopping eating about half of his usual intake. He was getting so little sleep, it was ridiculous. And he was fighting with Levi, a lot.

One such fight happened when they’d returned to work after the next therapy session and Levi was standing in the doorway as the night came to a close, watching Eren as he finished up the dishes and pretended not to notice.

“I’m telling Erwin.” was his rather short declaration.

Eren set the plate he was washing down. “Telling him what?”

“That you’re struggling.”

Eren couldn’t stop a scowl from twisting his features. “So what if I am?”

He didn’t want to do this again. He expected Levi to give him room to decide whether or not to take his troubles to the group, it was a big decision after all. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to tell them, rather he didn’t want to keep going through the worst day of his life. He’d tried to hide the fact he that he was indeed struggling from Levi, but to no avail. The shorter man had seen right through him.

Levi didn’t respond, just leaned against the doorframe, face fixed like he’d had enough, like Eren was being irrational. But didn’t he deserved to be? This shit was hard and emotions were, by definition, irrational anyway. For so many years he’d kept all of his feelings, all of his troubles and nightmares and demons held prisoner in the back of his mind. But with one night of drinking and a sea salt pop, Levi had managed to drag it all forth.

Levi looked at him from the doorway, eyes narrowed, scrutinizing. “This isn’t good for you, anyone can see that.”

“Well to be honest, Levi, it’s not anyone else’s business.” He kept washing the dish and his tone softened, shoulders slumping as it did so. “And I don’t know that I want to go through everything again. I don’t want to keep watching her die.”

He set the clean plate down in the pile and pulled the plug free from the drain, sighing and leaning into the edge of the sink. He felt the fatigue throughout his entire body. Whether he told the group or not, he was going to have to figure something out soon. But Levi’s pestering wasn’t doing him any good.

When he turned, he was surprised to find his boss standing right next to him. For the second time in two weeks, he felt Levi’s fingers on top of his. He looked down to where another hand rested atop his own. Then he looked back up, the sensation of tears building behind his eyes.

“You’re shaking again.” It was gentle, and nearly a whisper.

The tears slid down his face and he used his free hand to reach up and catch them. For so long he’d done his best to force his childhood to the back of his mind, to keep it there with distractions and denial. Levi didn’t know what he’d done when he took him to the beach that day— opened floodgates he wasn’t strong enough to close. 

“I feel like I’m drowning.” The words fell from his lips, cracked, vulnerable, and barely audible.  
Levi looked up at him from the corner of his eye and Eren saw genuine empathy there, however slight. Levi looked at him like he understood, and again it baffled him. He wanted to ask, but thought back to his encounter with Reiner the previous week and couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he just let the tears roll down his face. He heard the echo of their collision as they fell into the sink and he wished so terribly that Levi would hug him.

It seemed to him that Levi could sense this, but chose to ignore it. But there was something about the way his thumb was brushing over Eren's fingers that propelled him to rest against Levi anyway. Their shoulders didn't align, but if Levi was uncomfortable he didn't show it. In fact, he leaned back. And it was enough. So they stayed like that, until Eren could calm his trembling shoulders, until the tears stopped, until Eren felt a little better, though not by much. It was obvious even to himself that this was killing him. All he wanted to do was clock out, go home, and try again for some much-needed sleep. He needed to make a decision, sure. But it didn’t have to be that night, it could wait until morning at the very least, because he recognized that in that moment he needed the comfort of the smaller man at his side more than anything else.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can change, if you want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So I know it's been a little while since my last update. I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm currently studying abroad and doing a bit of traveling, which I am super excited about, despite the fact that the classes here are slightly more demanding and I've already found myself swamped with assignments. That being said, I definitely won't be able to update super frequently. I'll do my best to attempt weekly updates but, like, no promises. Just know that even if you don't see me for a while, I'm still here and working on this story. I'm seeing it through to the end. Thanks, and as always, enjoy the chapter!

Levi had taken to the task of cataloguing the remaining supplies of the shop, logging them down for monthly inventory. It was nearly time for another shipment. While making tea was usually his preference, this part of the job wasn’t bad either. While everyone else tended to the costumers, he moved about in the background, just a passing thought as people walked in. Just a part of the scenery. He liked the ability to hide in plain sight, he thought it suited him well. Being the observer and not the observed was always better; it cleared his head, allowed him to make calm, well-rounded, and considered choices. That was part of the reason why Eren was so frustrating.

The past few weeks he’d spent considerably more time with that one single troubled employee than any other. He was unpredictable, volatile, a mess of raw emotion and passion, earnest to a fault. It was… unnerving. He’d found himself a number of times unsure of what to do with him. And while Eren was by no means his responsibility, he felt the strange urge to look after him. Maybe he saw something in Eren that reminded him of a younger version of himself. Maybe he wanted to give that version of himself a chance, spare him all the pain that he’d experienced, offer something better. Or maybe he’d been spending too much time around Dr. Erwin Eyebrows Smith.

He sighed, pausing his writings as he did so, sparing a glance at Eren who was at the register. Petra’s maternity leave would be starting soon so he’d entrusted the register to Eren, believing he’d had sufficient training and was competent enough to operate it without supervision. Even from his angle, he could see the deep circles beneath his eyes which stood out prominently against the green held there. The usual lifegiving color seemed duller. That bothered Levi for some reason.

True to his nature, he shrugged off the thoughts and returned to the task at hand, retrieving the small step-stool from its place beneath the counter. With it he was able to access the overhead cabinets and the scarcely-used items held within. Mostly there was spare glassware and assorted storage materials but in the corner, where he always kept them, were two tins of matcha powder. But not where he always kept it was his mother’s bowl. He reached for it, the brush of his fingers against the ceramic bringing unpleasant memories with it. He stared at it, not seeing presently, instead watching different hands grip the bowl and stir the green powder into liquid. Hands much like his own but smaller, softer. Hands that kept growing weaker no matter what he did.

He frowned, just a little, just enough to constitute facial movement. It had been years— a lifetime really— since his mother passed away. He’d long since given up on ignoring it, working through his struggles in individual therapy a while before he entered group. He’d put in the time, done the work, learned how to cope, how to get better, but maybe that didn’t matter. As of late he’d been thinking of her more than usual, more often than he’d like to. But maybe that’s how it was. Maybe things like that never stopped hurting, not entirely at least.

He remembered when it used to be awful, when he’d walk into their tiny apartment and fall apart at the sight of an empty bed, at the memories that trapped him there. He remembered the phantoms, the dreams and the flashes of her everywhere, the cruel tricks his mind played on him. He remembered the sudden dependency on the only person he had left in the world, and how it scared him to realize such a thing, how he pushed her away. He remembered how lonely it was. He sighed heavily, not caring if anyone heard and returned the bowl to its proper place where it could be hidden, though not forgotten. He supposed if there was a trick to being able to move past things, that was it.

Levi flipped his notebook closed and returned the stool to its home beneath the counter before heading to his office. On the way he passed Eren who wouldn’t look at him, and Hanji who he ignored. Sometimes facing your past was hard, but it was necessary. The sooner Eren realized that the better, for both of them.

…

Eren averted his gaze as Levi all but stormed past him. He seemed in a particularly foul mood that day and he wasn’t interested in making it worse. Though, Eren honestly wasn’t doing much better himself. He sighed, leaning against the counter and stretching, popping his joints, reveling in the minor relaxation it brought. He was tense and he hated it. To be this bothered about anything for so long was new to him, and it was hard on him.

He looked up to find that Hanji had come over, a concerned expression he really didn’t care to see on her face. “You guys fight again?”

He grit his teeth, not in the mood. “The other day, yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he declared.

She smiled a little. “Who ever does?”

Eren watched as she turned to look behind her and then turned back to him, her brow creased in thought. He didn’t like that face either.

“Have you ever asked Levi about… his mother?”

That was unexpected. “I, uh, well he mentioned once that she died.”

Hanji nodded. “That she did. She was really sick for a long time and Levi was the one taking care of her.”

Eren found that strange. “What about the rest of their family, did they help?”

She shook her head regretfully. “Levi never knew his father and the only other family he had was an uncle who was too busy moving guns and drugs to give a shit.” She spoke bitterly, the only hint of prejudice towards anyone to ever come from her. In Eren’s experience, Hanji wasn’t one to judge. Whoever this uncle was, she must really not have liked him. “When she got sick, he did what he could for them. They never had much money, you see. The check the government gave her wasn’t enough to pay rent and treatment, and she didn’t want to leave him alone or let CPS take him so she refused it. Levi in turn tried to treat her himself at home. But there was only so much he could do.”

Eren felt uncomfortable, not sure if Hanji should be sharing this information with him. But it was relieving some of his stress, so he let it happen. “What did she have?”

The way her face tensed with sorrow made him wish he hadn’t asked. She looked genuinely upset. “AIDS.”

It took him a second to respond. “Wow, that’s awful.”

“It was.” Hanji’s hands were on her hips and she suddenly looked very tired. “They diagnosed her with HIV but when it went untreated, eventually she developed AIDS. After that her immune system was simply too weak to fight anything off and her health deteriorated quickly. Seven years after her diagnosis, she died. Levi was fourteen.”

Seven years of taking care of his mother, just to watch her die in the end. He couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been. He’d had no idea that Levi had taken care of his mother for the majority of his childhood, no clue what her death had done to him. Sure, when he’d lost his mother he’d thought she’d left him behind, but in truth he’d had Mikasa and Armin. But when Levi’s mom died, she actually did leave him all by himself. He’d been alone. Eren swallowed back a sudden lump in his throat. “What did he do then?” he asked, not sure how Hanji had come across all of the information but wanting to know anyways.

“My family owned the local pharmacy where Levi went to buy medicine for her. I used to bring them dinner every weekend.” She smiled at a memory he couldn’t see, the upturn of her lip nostalgic and sad. “The place was always so clean. I assumed it was to lower the probability of her catching something as much as possible. When she finally died, I know he blamed himself.” She sighed, removing her glasses and wiping them off. “After her death, my parents gave him a part time job and invited him to stay with us. But it… changed him. He was closed off, unresponsive. It took about a year or so before he started behaving somewhat normally again.”

He watched as people passed the store, going about their daily lives, unware of the morose conversation taking place just meters away. He thought about Levi and how he’d never told him any of this, wondering how it was he went about with such a heavy burden. To be fair, Eren never said anything either but he was keen enough to realize the only reason he’d been able to do so was because of the anger. But now that he’d realized it, that defense had become useless and he was falling apart. How had this not happened to Levi? Maybe he was just stronger than him.

Another thought struck him as his gaze returned to the woman at his side. “Why are you telling me this?”

Hanji smiled, and it was warm and calming, and even a bit taunting, like she was going to impart on him a great secret. “Because Levi needs someone like you in his life, even if he’s too stubborn to realize it.”

…

Jean paused and examined the stroller for what had to be the seventh time in under a half hour, making sure the clear plastic was snapped into place, protecting the young one wide awake within it from the biting winds around him. She looked at him with bright eyes and he scowled down at her.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death.”

She just kept looking and he resumed pushing, watching her face as he did so. He sighed happily, glad for the opportunity to take her out for a walk. Autumn was his favorite time of year and he was eager to share it with his daughter, although she probably wouldn’t be able to appreciate it for a few more years.

“So, how’s Mommy? Everything good?”

No response, just blinking.

“Good.” He said, taking the warm Americano from its holder and sipping from the cup. “You two aren’t fighting without me, are you?”

More blinking.

“Also good. You’re too young for that anyways.” He set the cup back into its holder and looked up thoughtfully. “Hey, how do you feel about Thomas?”

Rose scrunched her face up a little and he laughed.

“That’s my Rose Bud. Looks like you got your tastes from Daddy.”

Then he fell into a comfortable silence, idly watching the storefronts as they passed by. The sun would be setting soon and it would become colder, so he wanted to enjoy as much time as he could outside with his little girl before it wasn’t safe for her. He was hyper aware of her rosy cheeks and nose, concerned that she might be coming down with something. But the doctor had said she was fine and just to monitor her. So that’s what he intended to do.

He passed the animal hospital Bertolt worked at and offhandedly considered a pet. Maybe when she was old enough he could talk Mina into getting one for her. The thought of her chasing a puppy around the apartment made him smile like an idiot. Oh and speaking of idiots…

“Eren?”

He’d nearly passed them, headed in the opposite direction. He stopped upon being called, surprise lighting his features as his eyes befell the one who’d called him. His shock was even more prevalent when he registered the stroller and little person laying within it.

“Jean.” He nodded to him and then peered cautiously into the stroller, like he wasn’t sure what was going to be in there. “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

Jean beamed immediately, always ready to talk about his little girl. “Her name is Rose. She’s six months old and the smartest and cutest baby out there.”

Eren nodded. “Yeah she is really cute, must get it from her mom.”

Jean was taken aback, immediately wanting to call the jackass in front of him just that, but then he remembered he wasn’t the type of parent to curse around his child, even when she wasn’t even a year old. So he let it go. Then he was going to say something, but Eren beat him to it. “Can I hold her?”

He blinked a few times before the request registered. “Yeah, sure.” It only took him a few moments to unsnap the protective plastic and undo the safety belt around the baby. She looked up at him skeptically and he laughed, promising she could trust Eren before handing her off to him. Part of him expected her to start wailing, as she did with most strangers, which would have brought him immense amusement for some reason. Instead he was surprised to find that she simply stared at Eren, inactive but looking strangely… comfortable. His eyebrow twitched.

“Wow, I’ve never held a baby before.” Jean nearly passed out at the news, fighting off his instinct to immediately bring his child back to safety. But there was something in Eren’s face, something just below the surface that made him feel like if he took her away Eren would be the one to start crying. “She really is beautiful, Jean.”

“Thanks.” There was something off about Eren. Actually, there had been something off about him for a few weeks now. And if Jean had noticed, that meant whatever it was was probably bad. “Hey man, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just can’t imagine what it must be like to be a parent.” he said and although it seemed honest, Jean could tell there were implications hanging in his words somewhere just out of sight. 

“No, I mean like, mentally. Emotionally.” He struggled. Showing empathy was by no means his strong suit. “You’ve been looking pretty rough lately.”

Eren looked down at Rose as he spoke, entranced by the infant in his arms. “So I’ve been told.”

“You know, whatever it is,” He tried again, forcing himself beyond the awkwardness and alien feeling of caring about Eren. “If you tell the group, we can help you. And if not us, definitely Erwin.”

He looked up then and Jean could clearly see the sunken circles beneath his eyes, the lines of stress and fatigue plaguing his face. Something was definitely wrong. “I just have to make a big decision and it’s stressing me out.”

“Talking might help.” he suggested.

“It might also make it worse.” He looked back to the baby then, holding up his index finger which she grabbed without hesitation. A smile snuck onto his face. But it was gone almost as soon as it had come. “Jean, could you tell me why you’re in therapy?”

He titled his head, confused by the request. “Huh? Why would you want to know that?”

“Please, Jean. It would help me a lot.” His voice had become quiet, withdrawn, like he genuinely wanted what he was asking for but hated that he had to ask for it. Whatever was going on, Jean found himself just wanting to help. It was pretty clear Eren was struggling. Hadn’t they all been there at one point or another?

He sighed. “You’re holding the reason right there.” He nodded to Rose who was still gripping Eren’s finger, now trying to stick it in her mouth. He smiled at the sight, hoping Eren was smart enough not to let her do it though. “When her mother and I got divorced, they mandated treatment for me instead of asking me to pay alimony. I went at first because it was an obligation. But when she was born.” He paused, embarrassed a little. “I don’t know, it, like, changed me. Like suddenly I wasn’t going because I had to. Instead I was going for her, so I could be a better person for her. There are too many shit dads out there in the world, and I don’t want to be one of them.”

Eren scoffed bitterly. “I hear that.”

Jean put his hands in his pocket, feeling the urge to keep speaking. “I don’t know what it is you’re struggling to make a decision about. But it’s like you told Ymir on your first day— remember why you’re there. Therapy is about you, and you should be focusing on getting what you need out of it. It’s a place of coping, sure, but it’s also a place of change. You can change, if you want to. You have people in your life you care about, right?” Eren nodded, so he continued. “I think you should figure out if the you you are now is good enough for them, or if they deserve someone better. When Rose was born, the moment I first saw her face I knew she needed someone better than the me at that time so I decided I would, y’know, be a different me.”

Eren nodded thoughtfully, gently freeing his finger from the girl’s tiny hand. He looked pensive, considering Jean’s words in earnest. Then he turned those dangerous green eyes on him and they burned with a purpose previously nonexistent. “Thanks, Jean. I think I’ve made my decision.”

“Glad I could help.” he confessed, still a tad bit embarrassed. He helped Eren return Rose to the stroller. When she was securely fastened within it and the plastic covering was back in place, Jean was surprised to find that Eren had extended his hand out to him. Jean gripped it and shook, maintaining the sudden eye contact. He wasn’t sure what was happening, only that when Eren walked passed him, he did so with his head held up with time. He looked after the brown-haired man as he disappeared down the street. Then he shrugged, and resumed pushing the stroller, getting back to his walk. He looked down to his daughter once more, her bright eyes attempting to look beyond him, maybe to see where Eren had gone. He scowled.

“Oh no, little missy, don’t even think about bringing a guy like him home. I forbid it.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *flashback*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: physical and emotional abuse, death/murder, suicide, gun violence

The drive home was spent in silence, with Eren staring out of the passenger window as the town passed by. He watched the people, the buildings, even the skyline, looking anywhere else but to the driver. His small arms stayed pressed against his chest, tightening as the adult beside him sighed.

“Eren, you’ve got to stop doing this.”

The ten-year-old didn’t respond, fixing his eyes on the keyhole of the glove compartment instead.

“What have you got to say for yourself?” his mother demanded, tone growing stricter. He remained silent, knowing that no matter what he said, she’d just yell at him anyway.

“Eren!” she snapped and Eren looked up, gaze meeting angry and disappointed golden eyes. 

“Don’t you understand what you’re risking with all this fighting? What are you going to do if you get expelled?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll go to a different school.”

“And if they won’t accept you?”

“Then I just won’t go to school.” He answered defiantly.

She sighed. “It doesn’t work that way.”

Her shoulders slumped and he could see the stress of the past few days consume her features. He couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering on the pinkish flesh beneath one of her eyes. It was lighter and less noticeable than the purple bruise it had been days before. He suddenly felt guilty.

“I don’t just go around starting fights.” He mumbled after a minute. “The other kids pick on me a lot. They say things about you, really messed up things, and I just...”

Silence fell between him as he took to avoiding her gaze once more. His mother sighed again. “Eren,” When she spoke this time, her voice was reprimanding, but soft. “It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around. People talk— they always have, always will. Gossip isn’t worth ruining your future over.”

He pouted. She said that, sure, but she didn’t hear the things his stupid classmates had been saying. She didn’t understand that they were making fun of her pain. So he took it upon himself to caused them some in kind. It was only fair.

He knew they’d turned into the neighborhood by the way her grip tightened around the staring wheel. He couldn’t see much due to his height, but he watched the house loom ever nearly through the windshield and felt the familiar anxiety returning home always caused him. The old black car was nowhere to be seen. His eyes flicked to the clock on the radio and back to the driveway. It was five thirty-seven, and his dad wasn’t home yet. Judging by the look on his mom’s face, she also knew that wasn’t good.

The shudders of the car ceased as the engine was shut off. Instead of getting out, his mom leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes, unresponsive for a moment. He fidgeted in the stillness.

“Hey, Mom?”

She pried open one eye, turning it on him wearily. “Hm?”

“Can you, you know, not tell Dad I got in trouble again?” His eyes were downcast, staring at the black mat his feet were barely reaching.

She straightened up, stretching a little. “Tell you what; if you promise not to get into any more trouble at school, AND you help me make dinner, we’ll keep all of this between us. What do you say?”

Eren felt miniscule relief at her words and nodded. She smiled and opened the door, before heading into the house. They went immediately to the kitchen where she asked him what he wanted for dinner. Spaghetti was his favorite, and upon that declaration she agreed to it. She proceeded to guide him through the safer steps of her recipe so that he could hold up his end of the deal and help her cook. In under an hour, they had made a meal and set it on the table. The only thing left to do was wait.

Under normal circumstances, Eren’s father was home by four thirty, locked away in his study, busy doing whatever it was that kept him from them. But it was Friday, and Friday nights were different.

Thirty more minutes passed by before he noticed his mother fiddling with her phone, checking it often and repeatedly turning it over in her hand. Another ten minutes and she gave him the okay to start eating, which he did. The food was really good, as it always was when she cooked. It was a nice distraction from the tension he could sense, but was too young to understand. So, he just shrugged it off and ate in the silence, keeping a wary eye on his uneasy mother. Occasionally she would flash him a reassuring smile but to no avail. When he’d finished his dinner, hers, as well as his father’s, remained intact. He told her to eat, knowing she must be hungry. She said she’d rather wait for his dad, like she always did. He didn’t like her to have dinner without him. Time stretched on and he was dismissed to go do homework and clean his room, and when he was done, watch cartoons. Even when nine o’clock came around, his mother sat dutifully at the table, still looking at her phone, food cold and untouched.

Eren turned off the TV and walked over to her, grabbing her plate. She watched him as he went to the kitchen and reheated it in the microwave. He returned it to her and she pinched his cheek affectionately before smiling a small smile down at him. He hated how pained her eyes were, hated that her smiles never did anything for it.

He was going to go to bed then, sleepy and tired of waiting. He told her goodnight and kissed her on the cheek, collecting his bookbag and other miscellaneous belongings. He was headed out of the kitchen when the front door was violently thrown open. He looked through the darkness of the front room to see his father, crossing the threshold with uneasy steps. His eyes befell him and Eren swallowed, knowing whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be pleasant.

He set his things down, turning to fully face his dad as he staggered towards him. The look on his face was harsh and full of rage. He could smell the liquor wafting off his person before he even got close, prompting Eren to look over his shoulder to his mother who’d risen from her seat. She looked worried, ready to intervene, ready to protect him. But if he allowed her that, she’d get the worse of it, which wasn’t fair. So he ignored his instincts to run and stayed put, wanting to just get it over with.

A hand came hard across his face, the force of which pushed him back as pain exploded in his cheek. He wasn’t given any time to recover before he felt his feet leaving the ground. 

“Grisha stop!”

His father had him by the neck, brutally cutting off his access to air. He clawed at the hand there, trying desperately to loosen the grip so he could breathe better. His legs swung beneath him as he thrashed, trying to kick, bite, push, anything to get free. He knew his mom was screaming in the background, but what she was saying he couldn’t hear. He found himself staring into the wrathful gaze of his father, eyes wide and bleary, but otherwise cold. His vision began to spot.

Suddenly, he was on the ground, sucking in air as quickly as he could, coughing as he choked from his inhale. His throat burned with a painful heat not even the air could cool. He tried not to think about it as he scrambled to his feet. If he’d been let go, it meant his mom had taken his place.

When his vision settled he saw that his mother had been hoisted up by the collar of her dress, her face inches from the lips twisting into a snarl.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” 

She didn’t respond. His father’s fist collided with the side of her face and she went down, with him screaming as she did “Answer me you slut!”

Eren’s own fury flared within him at the sight and he launched himself at his father, stopping only when his mother commanded him so with a raised hand. He was breathing hard, his shoulders moving rapidly with every in and out of breath. He felt the tears on his face but ignored them. Sometimes it got bad, but this was really bad, and he feared for their lives. But he didn’t know what to do, so he waited for her instruction.

The display seemed to anger his father further as he stepped forward and reached down, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her to her feet. The hand she held up to stop Eren remained in place. His fists trembled at his sides. Why wouldn’t she let him help?

“Why are you protecting him, Carla? Boys don’t need protection from their fathers.” She winced as he gripped her hair tighter. “Unless I’m not his father.”

“You’re drunk.” she sneered.

“And you’ve been fucking around, haven’t you?” He paused, and when she didn’t say anything, shouted “Haven’t you!” 

At her continued silence he shoved her hard and her side slammed into the counter. Eren jolted forward, but she looked sternly at him through a fit of coughs and raised her hand to him again. It was killing him to just stand there, to be so useless, but she knew how to handle these sorts of things, so he listened. She struggled to stand and faced her husband.

“You want to hit me, throw accusations at me, fine. But you let him go.” She gestured to where Eren stood.

“What makes you think you can speak to me that way bitch?”

She showed her phone to him. 9-1-1 displayed on the dialer. “You do as I say, or I call the police right now.” Her eyes challenged him, dared him to call her bluff. “Is it worth it, Grisha? All the work you put into your career and your practice will be ruined, all of it gone, unless you leave Eren out of this.”

Eren saw the decision being made on his face. Disturbed eyes were turned his way and he returned the hateful gaze with one of his own, just as strong. His eyes narrowed as he spoke lowly. “Get out, Eren.”

Eren faltered, looking to his mother who nodded. He really didn’t want to leave her with this monster, didn’t want her to get hurt any more than she already had, but he knew his presence in the long run would just make it worse. He angrily wiped the tears from his face and forced himself to move. It was slow but he made it to the base of the stairs as his parents’ stares followed. They looked away once he was on the landing. But he didn’t start up the second set to the next floor. Instead he crouched into the blind spot he’d hid in many times before and watched, ready to intervene if it got too bad. 

His father snatched the phone from her hands and threw it past her where it crashed into a wall and broke. The sound made him jump, but not her. She just stood, unmoving as he yelled at her, spewing all manner of insult and vulgarity and spit. How the neighbors couldn’t hear an argument like this, he didn’t know. But they never did.

Suddenly his father was advancing on her, backing her into the stove. He backhanded her and Eren bit his lip, trying to control himself. She’d taken up for him, like she always had. She took the brunt of his anger, like always, and she’d be able to calm him down too. It would end, it would get better. It always did.

But then she was forced backwards, bent over the stove, his hands at her throat. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was struggling, one of her hands around his wrists and the other searching the counter. Eren couldn’t just watch anymore.

“Let her go!” he shrieked as took off down the stairs.

When he made it to the kitchen, he stopped short, taking in the scene before him. The knife they’d used to cut onions for the spaghetti was sticking out of his father’s neck. His eyes were wide in disbelief, looking from his wife to his son with confusion and dying rage. His mother stood above him as he crashed to the ground, ragged breath wracking her form. When she turned to Eren him, her face and general front was covered in blood that had sprayed from her attack. She stepped over his father who was writhing on the floor, choking on the blood the poured profusely from the wound. His accusing stare was cut off as his mother kneeled in front of him.  
“Eren, honey, are you okay?” Her voice was calm, but the hand she touched to his face was both bloody and trembling.

He just nodded and she hugged him. Over her shoulder he saw that his father’s body had stopped moving. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

She released him but kept him in front of her, shaking a little. The tone she’d used to address his father just minutes ago was gone, replaced by something much frailer. “Okay so, um, it’s been a long night, hm? Why don’t we get cleaned up and deal with this in the morning?”

He looked at her, frowning a little. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“I know.” She nodded. “We will.” Then she looked back behind her and the grip she had on his shoulder tightened. “But right now I just, I can’t— I—”

“It’s okay, Mom,” he offered quietly. She hung her head and Eren grabbed her hand, stilling its tremors between his own. She looked at him fully then, her eyes frightened and wide. And tired. So tired. 

“We’re better off now. I can take care of you now.”

“Oh, Eren,” Whatever other words she was going to say caught in her throat as she covered her mouth and began to sob. Her shoulders convulsed and Eren hugged her, crying more tears of his own. It took a while, but soon her form stopped shaking and she tore herself from him. She took them to the bathroom and wiped away all the blood. They didn’t touch the kitchen, and both refused to look at the body as they walked by and up the stairs. She took him to his room and read him a story, one of his favorites from when he was younger and kissed his forehead, telling him she loved him and to get a good night’s sleep. Then she left, and he slept.

To his surprise he dreamt of pleasant things. He saw him and his mother, a new house, a new place, free. They could do whatever they wanted, go wherever they wanted. He’d stopped fighting in school and she had a job she loved and did more things with him, like going to the movies and the park. He dreamt of birthdays and holidays where Mikasa and Armin would visit them in their new life and everything was great. Everything was okay. 

He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d fallen into the void of dreams, but what felt like a few hours later he awoke, needing to use the bathroom. Staring down the hallway he noticed the light from his father’s study was on. Slowly he walked up to the door, peeking through the crack to see and to keep from being seen. He saw his mother there, tidying papers. He guessed she probably couldn’t sleep, which was understandable, but still he felt bad as he watched her. In the end, she’d done something really hard for them. And while he though his father a despicable human being, she always promised that at one point it hadn’t been so. At one point, his parents had been in love and they had been a family. She’d always blamed it on the stress— long hours in surgery, the patients that were lost, eventually setting up his own practice. And in her words, she’d guessed ‘the glass was never far from his desk’. A part of her must have still loved him. But Eren held nothing but hate in his heart for the man.

His mother’s continued movement drew his attention back to her as she aligned the papers she’d been holding with a tap on the desk and arranged them into different folders. It puzzled him, the thought that she would be doing any sort of paperwork this late into the night, especially given what had happened earlier. But she kept on, placing the documents into the drawer and then setting her elbows on the desk, holding her head in her hands. From the angle where he stood, he could see her face, pensive and streaked with tears. She raised a glass of dark liquid to her lips and swallowed, recoiling at the taste. He assumed it was his father’s liquor but couldn’t think too much on it as she immediately folded her hands and closed her eyes, mouth moving swiftly and silently as she pressed them to her face. Eren frowned. She was drinking, and praying. She did the former when it got bad, and the latter when it got really bad. He could hear her sobs from where he watched as she finished her private prayer. Her eyes opened and more tears spilled from their corners. ‘Tortured’ sprang to his mind as he looked at her expression. She wiped the tears away but the suffered expression remained. Then she reached down and grabbed something which Eren quickly identified as his father’s pistol. She downed the rest of her drink and his blood ran cold when the muzzle of the gun touched her temple.

“Mom!” He called out to her as he burst through the door, reaching. 

She saw him and smiled. It was the warmest smile to ever grace her lips. 

"Live a good life, Eren."

Then she pulled the trigger.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The still unnamed man blushed a beautiful rose which stood out against his speckled freckles. Then he laughed and to his surprise Jean’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. Immediately he knew he wanted to hear that laugh again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said weekly, but I'll make it up to you somehow. How about a bit of fluff? Any takers?
> 
> Seriously though, I would really appreciate if you guys would let me know if you think tags should be updated. I want to make sure they're doing their job (but also not scaring people away lol). Also, how's the pacing working for you all? Should I speed things up a bit or is it okay? Let me know in the comments, I'm getting a little paranoid about it. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Jean held the door open for the person behind him, not even paying attention to who they were, only mumbling a quick ‘no problem’ before heading off. Due to Eren’s emotional state, Erwin had cut the session short. Watching the other man’s past come forth and overtake him was... difficult. Eren had actually broken down, a sight Jean never thought he’d see. But with the story he’d told, he couldn’t blame him. It was obvious that shit was hard for him, hell it was heard to listen to let alone have to say. Jean couldn’t even say anything in the end, he had just watched on with a heavy feeling growing in his chest, one he wasn’t used to, one he didn’t like, one that hadn’t yet gone away.

He needed a drink.

On the way down to the lobby, he noticed Levi lingering near the stairwell. They made eye contact as he approached, so he figured he’d stop there a moment. There was obvious concern on his face as he turned uncomfortable and annoyed eyes to the sudden company.

“You waiting for him?” Jean asked.

Levi crossed his arms. “Seems like it.”

“I’ve never seen you so bothered, not even when Reiner changes.”

“I could say the same about you.”

That he could. Jean sighed. “I just feel so bad for him.”

The slightest hint of surprise showed in Levi’s features. “That’s a good sign for you, isn’t it? You might want to share that with Erwin.”

Jean shrugged as he looked back to the door where the two men mentioned were still talking. Then he turned back, fussing at his bottom lip, unsure of how to verbalize his worry. “You’ll… take care of him, right? I don’t know his life-situation, but I doubt being alone would be any good for him.” Worrying about another person beyond his daughter was a strange, quite frankly yucky feeling. He didn’t want to dwell any more on it. So when Levi just nodded, Jean took his silence as a cue to leave.

Going down the stairs, Jean’s mind was fuzzy despite his best efforts to clear away the previous half hour. He kept thinking about Eren’s story and what life must have been like for him. A rough childhood because of his father, probably a rougher adolescence because of his parents’ deaths, and now more struggles as an adult due to his disorder. It really was no wonder he was so angry. But it left Jean to really consider himself in comparison. Why was he the way he was? He’d thought about it before, had traced his memories back to the loneliness and the food, back to the bullying and the eventual weight loss. And the popularity gain. If he had to pinpoint it, that was probably where it had started. He scoffed. High school had been—

Suddenly he was falling, his foot having caught the edge of a box he hadn’t noticed. The ground came up fast, and he braced himself for a face-full of the ground. But, he was fine. He blinked, once, twice, before realizing another person was holding him, steadying him. He looked up into apologetic light brown eyes and a concerned frown.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to leave my stuff in the walkway.”

His brain switched gears, shifting quickly from whatever strange headspace therapy had shoved him into to the more common side of himself, the one he knew better, the more adept at social interaction and facades. “No, no, it’s fine.” He said, straightening up. “Besides, I should have known I’d fall for a face like yours.”

The still unnamed man blushed a beautiful rose which stood out against his speckled freckles. Then he laughed and to his surprise, Jean’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. Immediately he knew he wanted to hear that laugh again. “That’s an awful pickup line.”

Jean shrugged. “Come out for a drink with me and I’ll try again.”

He smiled, his expression something close to impressed. “You certainly work quick.”

“Maybe I should slow down so I can enjoy your company some more then.” He extended his hand as he spoke. “I’m Jean.”

“Marco.”

Marco shook his hand and Jean gestured to the box still somewhat between them. “So, what’s happening with this? Changing offices or something?”

“Actually, I’m the new receptionist.”

“Oh, so Hitch is finally taking a hike, is she?”

Marco winced a little at the comment. “Was she that bad?” Jean nodded. “Well then I’ll just have to do a better job.”

Jean laughed. “I can tell already that you will.”

They stared at one another for a moment before the other shyly looked away and gestured broadly to the boxes around them. “Well just let me tidy up a bit and we can head out. I’m not actually on the clock until next week so might as well try to catch happy hour. If that’s okay.”

“Sure. Do you need any help?”

He waved him off. “It’s fine. Plus, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything on my account.”

Before Jean could reply, Marco had gathered the box into his arms and walked into the room beyond reception. So he waited there, watching with slightly raised eyebrows as Marco cleaned up. Jean found himself especially interested in those moments in which he would bend over to retrieve this item or that, letting his eyes quickly travel the shape of Marco’s body, resting slyly on various points of interest. He watched him unashamedly, until an exasperated groan drug his attention away.

Ymir walked towards them, addressing Marco as he locked the door behind him. “Horseface over here isn’t bothering you, is he?”

Jean rolled his eyes as Marco laughed. The sound sent a round of butterflies through his stomach. Yep, he definitely could get used to that. “No, no. Actually, he asked me out for a drink.”

Ymir made an unimpressed sound. “Don’t do it Marco, you’re way too good for him.”

Jean opened his mouth in protest but found he’d been beaten to it by a smaller, more pleasant, and somehow sharper voice. “She’s kidding.”

It was Historia. She’d entered the center with her usual bright smile and girlish charm as she came over. A swift pinch was delivered to Ymir’s arm, accompanied by a slight yelp as she settled herself into their little group. 

Marco just smiled at the display, and Jean briefly wondered if his face knew how to do anything else. Not that he was complaining or anything, it was a nice smile. A friendly one. His instinct was to think that Marco was just a friendly person, but his familiarity with the two women was a bit stronger than he’d anticipated. So he asked, “Hey, you guys know each other?”

To his surprise, Historia responded. “Yeah, Marco and I teach together at the University. He’s working here now too to help out with his research.”

That wasn’t expected. “Oh, what kind of research?”

“Boring stuff,” he said, averting his gaze. Jean’s eager expression goaded him into elaborating. “Workplace relationships and client-staff perceptions in office settings. It’s probably completely worthless.”

“I find it hard to believe anything you do is worthless.” He flashed a smirk as Marco blushed, Ymir rolled her eyes, and Historia looked speculatively between them. a moment later, she spoke, mischief glinting in her eye.

“We were gonna grab a bite to eat before heading home.” She started. “You guys wanna join us?”

Ymir was visibly surprised, and Jean had immediate doubts as to that being a good idea, but Marco spoke before he could form a response and kickstarted their night. “That sounds great.”

…

The red liquid in the glass was getting low, just as the lights had a few minutes ago. It was growing later, and the hustle and bustle of the restraint had begun to quiet down, declining to a minimum amount of noise in the background. They sat at a table for four, with two empty chairs. Due to the one-too-many long islands Ymir had consumed, Historia decided it was best to take her home. It was a smart, as well as a considerate move, allowing the restaurant staff to relax as they were sure to have a heart attack at the amount of affection Ymir was showing her wife. Also, it allowed him and Marco some alone time, which had been nice. He expected they might stay an extra thirty minutes or so, chatting about all the commonplace conversation topics typical of their situation. But that thought had formed and died almost two hours ago.

They spent the time talking, lingering over a dessert, or two, and a bottle of merlot. Jean was leaning on his forearms, listening to an excited Marco animatedly convey a story about one of his colleagues at the university. He spoke with his hands, more than anyone he’d ever seen. But there was something about the little smile constantly tugging at his lips and the gleam in his light brown eyes that assured Jean he could listen to him all night, no matter what he said.

Their conversation had taken them from the boring every day, through the past, and to the future, beyond the edges of a few oceans, and out to space, and once even further. They joked and flirted the entire time, and whether from the wine or the light feeling in his stomach when it happened, Jean had quickly become addicted to the sound of Marco’s laugh. Even now, he just stared, waiting to hear it again. If he was lucky enough, he’d tell another really funny joke and get him good, sending the other man into a fit of hysterics, which was even better.

Marco noticed his stare and his gaze turned shy as he reached for his wine and took a sip, breaking away from the story. As he set the glass back on the table, Jean let his fingers rest lightly atop the other’s. “I’m having a really great time.” he admitted.

Marco nodded. “I am too, especially since you’re paying.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in brief acknowledgement of the joke. Throughout the entire time they’d been sat at the table, through all the different things they talked about, there was only one thing they hadn’t. Under normal circumstances, Jean considered it improper to bring up past relationships so soon. Really, it was Dating 101, and bad luck. But seeing as his situation was somewhat different, mentioning Mina was a must. Because without talking about her, he couldn’t fairly talk about Rose.

“Hey Marco,” he said softly as he withdrew his hand. 

Marco blinked, noticing the shift in Jean’s demeanor. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know how to put this. I mean, we’ve only just met but I want to see you again. I hope you want to see me again, too, and if that’s the case, then I can’t rightfully keep this from you.” He tripped over his words a little, not sure how to go about introducing his situation. There had never been anyone after Mina, as such this was new territory. Judging by Marco’s nervous glances, he may have been feeling some of the same anxiety Jean was giving off as he sat stout in his seat. 

He took a deep breath before raising his eyes back to his company. Reassuring patience was nestled in the other’s stare and upon seeing it, he let go. He said it. “So I’m a father... Yeah.”

Marco’s expression automatically fell as he lowered his head a bit with a sigh. “Oh my god, that’s all?”

“Excuse me?”

“You scared me a little. I thought you were going to tell me you were involved in something illegal or, married, or something.” His head snapped up suddenly, gaze searching for hands that had since been removed from atop the table. “You’re not married, are you?”

“No. Divorced actually.” Jean reached for his phone pulling up the picture of Rose and Mina on the day she’d been born. “My ex-wife and my daughter.”

Marco took the phone and examined the picture with kind eyes. “She’s stunning, Jean.” he said as he returned the cellphone. 

“Yeah, she’s the love of my life.”

Marco smirked. “Now just how do you expect me to compete with that?”

He smiled, and somehow Jean knew it would be okay. But he still had to ask. “So you’re okay with this? I don’t know where any of…” He paused to gesture awkwardly between the two. “… this will go but since she’s an important part of my life, I had to say something.”

“Thank you.” Marco said earnestly. “For starting off honest. I don’t know about anyone else, but that means a lot to me.”

Jean’s heart swelled as the waiter arrived, offering him the check which he preceded to pay and leave a nice tip. He accepted his returned card with slight disappointment, realizing now that the date would be ending. As they stood and made their way to the door, he considered the possibility of extending it some more instead. In the foyer he turned on Marco, resting a hand against the wood of one of the walls and closing the space between them quickly. 

“Are you busy for the rest of the night?” he asked, a sly smile sneaking its way to his mouth as he reached for Marco’s hand. “We could spend more time together at my place, if you want.” His voice dropped to a sultry whisper and he placed a light kiss on the back of his hand, careful not to break their eye contact. Marco smiled politely but withdrew his hand, putting it in his pocket instead. Jean frowned at that, suddenly afraid he’d overstepped a boundary of some sort.

“I don’t make it a habit to go home with someone on the first date. But,” From that same pocket he produced his own cell phone, unlocking it and handing it to Jean. “That doesn’t mean we can’t see each other again.”

Jean pushed off the wall and took the phone and found the contact list, quickly inserting his number under a title he hoped would extended their flirtation before handing it back. Marco took it and surprised Jean by immediately leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. The gorgeous blush was back across his cheeks.

“Goodnight, Jean.”

His tone was soft, hopeful. “Goodnight, Marco.”

Then he was gone. Jean gripped at his chest, noticing how rapidly his heart had been beating. His phone buzzed a moment later. The unknown number displayed across the top with the message ‘Future Husband?? Is that a proposal lol'

He typed quickly back.

'Of course, might as well lock it down now ;)'

The phone buzzed almost immediately afterwards. 

'Lol we’ll see.'

Jean opened his phone and dialed before he even gave a thought to what he was doing it. It was only seven so she should still be up.

“Hello?”

“Mina, hey.”

A pause. A shuffling sound. “Is everything okay Jean, why are you calling?”

“Mina, I’ve met someone. Well, at least I think I have. I’ve really only just met him, like earlier today but we just spent the past three hours together.” He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice as he told her.

“Jean…”

Her tone sent his heart to his stomach. The butterflies there too had turned to weights, and it took everything he was to not get defensive. Instead of lingering any more near the restaurant, he made his way to his car. “What?”

“I’m excited for you, really I am, but I just don’t want you to get too… invested.”

“He said we’d see each other again.”

“That’s great, but—”

“Really, Mina?” He scoffed as he closed the door behind him. “I had a really great night and I call you to tell you about it and you shoot me down? You said you wanted us to be friends, that’s why I called in the first place.”

Mina sighed. “We are friends Jean, that’s why I’m telling you this. I love that you’ve finally gotten back out there, but I know you. You can be rash. You love hard, but you love fast, and fast love runs out quicker.”

“Nobody said anything about love.” he grumbled as he started the car. He had called expecting excitement, for them to talk about the prospect of him finally moving on. For her to share in his joy at the wonderful night he’d had. He hadn’t been expecting a lecture, and it dampened his spirits considerably. But he wanted to keep the conversation civil, at all costs, even at that of his ego.

Mina had paused, so there was silence as he left the parking lot. He waited for her to continue. “Listen, are you sure you’ve given yourself enough time?”

His eyes widened at the question, remembering suddenly the sight of her and Thomas together for the first time, remembering the hurt. He chewed the inside of his lip as he drove, watching the lights on the highway in an attempt to still the tiny bit of pain that still stirred in his chest at the memory.

“To untangle from me, I mean. I know you still have feel—”

He cut her off quickly. “If you don’t love me anymore, why does that matter?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I want you to be happy, Jean.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, knowing that she was telling the truth but in a way, wanting it to be a lie. Because if she was being honest, then whatever advice she would undoubtedly offer would also be based in truth. 

“Just, don’t rush this, okay? Get to know him first. Maybe things would have been different between us if we had done the same.”

He nodded to himself. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Mina.” Then he ended the call.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking at Eren contently drink his drink sent a flutter of guilt through his stomach. It wasn’t fair for him to rely so heavily on his employee. No, that wasn’t the right word anymore. Eren was his friend.

The snow fell slowly, just past the window. The first snow of the season happening right before his eyes and he was stuck watching from behind the glass. He wished he could be outside just for a moment, just long enough to taste the snowflakes, long enough to feel the ice touch his body, maybe even long enough to watch the crystal structure melt into his skin. In the sunlight, it glinted as it fell, refracting the sun’s rays and sparkling. Soon that shine would be everywhere— on the pavements, against the glass of the shop, on the hoods of the cars, and Eren would love it.  
He paused at the thought of the majesty winter brought with it, eyes befalling his boss as he swept the floor within his line of sight. He stood against the backdrop of the snowfall, eyelids lowered in thought, soft grey gleaming slightly, surrounded by the same cold beauty that touched everything beyond the shop.

He saw those eyes peering at him in his memories, challenging, encouraging, sympathetic as they had been for the past few weeks. If not for Levi, he’d still be suffering. The day before had been hard and tiring, and Levi’s small nods of encouragement throughout were the sole reason he was able to get it all out. Afterwards Eren had been a mess and he’d gone to speak with Dr. Smith. They discussed separate individual treatment which Eren had agreed to. He never thought he’d willingly do such a thing but talking about his parents had worn him out and worn him down. The veil of ignorance surrounding his past and his disorder had been promptly snatched away which, according to Levi, was good. He’d been in the hallway as Eren finished with the doctor, waiting for him, just like always. The sight of him standing there, understanding and patient, had pulled forth such gratefulness from Eren that he hadn’t even thought about his actions as he enveloped the man in a tight embrace.

Now his cheeks burned with embarrassment as he watched Levi and remembered the encounter. He looked away, afraid he’d be caught staring, which he was very obviously doing. Most of his emotions had since calmed down, well, at least the ones he’d been struggling with. They were replaced instead with deep consideration over the way Levi had been treating him. His demeanor was always closed off but in the short time they’d known one another, Levi had showed him more kindness than anyone else in his life. Well, besides maybe Mikasa and her parents. He wondered if—

“Eren!”

Hanji’s sing-songy tone snapped him from his thoughts. “Oh, uh, what?”

“Ogling the boss, I see.”

His mouth opened slightly at her proclamation and then closed, forming a thin line as he rested his eyes on the register. “I am not.”

“Oh but you ARE bushing.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she teased and he crossed his arms indignantly, knowing full well his face was tinged red. “So what?”

She moved so that she was once again in his field of vision and her grin was mischief incarnate. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

The bell signaling the entry of a person into the shop cut off whatever insinuation she would have spouted and Eren had never been more grateful to see a customer as he was to see the blond woman as she approached the counter.

She was wearing a deep black pinstriped suit with a white button-up. She held a briefcase in one hand and her phone in the other, and the sound of her voice was straight and sharp, more piercing than the click of her heels against the floor. She slowed as she neared, wrapping up her conversation.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. If everyone helps out like they normally do … Whatever you normally do with adoption advertisements … Bertolt … B-Ber— … Bertolt calm down, take a breath, everything will be okay … Yes, I’m sure of it. Now, I’m at that tea place you like, do you want anything? … Okay then I’ll see you later.”

She pulled the phone from her face and hung up, closing the distance between her and the counter finally.

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Eren waved off the apology. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, the person you were talking to on the phone, does he work at the animal hospital by any chance?”

Her eyes narrowed, probably at the implied admission that he’d been eavesdropping, and she nodded slowly. “Yes, he’s a veterinarian there.”

“Is he okay?” 

She paused again. “Do you know him?”

He faltered for a moment, unsure of how much to divulge. Given that she’d used his first name, he assumed they were familiar. But, just how familiar? He swallowed. “He’s—”

“Annie,”

Levi had left to store the broom and now returned to the floor, turning to greet his customer.

“Hello, Levi.” She acknowledged him with a small nod. “How have you been?”

“I should be asking you that. It’s been awhile.”

“It has. Work has been rather demanding as of late.”

“The public sucks, don’t let them stress you out too much.” He crossed his arms. “Oh and speaking of stress, how’s Bertolt doing?”

She smiled a little. “Shouldn’t you be telling me that?”

Levi shared a look with Eren, one he didn’t really understand before continuing. “We’ve been kind of busy lately in group so he hasn’t had the chance to speak much, not that he did beforehand anyways. He always seems to speak with you more than anyone else.”

“For some reason he tends to listen to me, although that’s not doing me much help right now. He’s been panicking lately. There are some puppies at the hospital that are old enough to be adopted and he’s worried they won’t all find homes.”

“Sounds like something he would worry about.”

“Mmm.” she hummed in agreement and then turned her head a little. “Oh, hello Hanji.”

Hanji leaned onto the counter, smiling. “Annie, darling, you look so stressed. Levi created something the other day for that if you want to try it.”

Eren remembered the sign he’d placed out the other day advertising Levi’s most recent blend. At least once monthly the man would combine different flavors and strains of tea to create something new. Hanji affectionately deemed the practice ‘blending to a tee’, which Levi shot down as advertisement every month, refusing to let his creation be “degraded by filthy puns”. This month the theme had been stress relief. Having tried it himself, if that was what she was looking for, Eren could vouch for its effectiveness.

Annie nodded after a moment. “That could be good. What’s in it?”

It took him a moment to realize that the question had been directed at him. “It’s a, um, spiced tea with chamomile, cinnamon, vanilla, and notes of lavender. I tried it a little while ago. It’s very good with milk.” he offered, terrified that he might mess up its description with its creator so near. 

“I’ll have one.” she said after a moment, reaching into the side of her briefcase.

Eren started ringing up the order. “With the milk too?”

“Yes, but with almond milk please. And to-go.”

He nodded and amended the order, reaching out to receive her card. With a swipe, she was all set. He handed her her receipt with a smile which she accepted with one of her own, albeit a small one. “Thanks…”

“Eren.”

She nodded. “Thank you Eren. It was nice to meet you.”

Then she went to the other side of the counter, resuming a light chat with the two others. He watched from his place at the register as Levi and Hanji made the drink and kept Annie company. His gaze was once again glued to the smaller man, observing his calm mannerisms as he worked and talked. There was something about Levi that was inherently caring, something he wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t been for their interactions as of late. He thought back to the story of Levi’s past Hanji had told him and sighed a little. Levi took care of everyone and everything, it seemed. He looked after his mother as a child, watched over the shop, its customers and employees alike, and now took it upon himself to look after Eren too. As he stood there, engrossed in this realization, he thought about how unfair that all seemed. Who was there to care for Levi then? 

Swallowing a little, he made a decision.

Once Annie had left and Hanji went on break, Eren found himself alone with Levi behind the counter. Levi was focused on his phone, probably looking through emails, and Eren was focused on Levi, unsure of how to voice the proposition he’d come up with.

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” Levi spoke suddenly, making Eren jump a little. He didn’t look up though and Eren was thankful for it, not wanting him to see how frazzled he’d become in the moment. “Got something to say?”

As his heart slowed back down to resting rate, he bit his lip. “Yeah, I uh…” He was never known to be eloquent, but he knew he could do better than the stuttering he was stuck in. He stopped and tried again. “Thank you, I mean. For,” He sighed, annoyed with his inability to express his thoughts. “I don’t know, everything, I guess? You didn’t have to help me, but you did. So, thanks.”

Levi had looked up then, consideration evident in his expression. He nodded once. “No problem.”

Before he could look back down Eren started again. “I want to repay the favor.” A peaked eyebrow made him clarify quickly. “A while back Dr. Smith made you go to the mall and it didn’t go well. You helped me face all my bullshit, so I want to help you face yours.”

Levi contemplated his statement for a moment, and Eren waited awkwardly for a response. With a little scoff he said “It’s not that easy Eren, you know that.”

Eren looked away. “I do, but I just…” He trailed off into silence, not sure if he’d made the wrong decision by bringing it up at all. He just wanted to help, that was all. 

The moments stretched on before a heavy sigh fell from Levi’s lips. “Sure, why not?”

…

Even the thought of the food court was enough to raise the small hairs on his arm, especially when he considered that first attempt. But he had agreed to Eren’s proposal, knowing it was for the best and truly not minding the company. He’d already seen him fail, so there wasn’t much else to be concerned about. He hadn’t pressed Levi for a time or a date, simply nodded and waited. For the past couple of days, the idea of returning to the mall prompted an intense anxiety within him. Erwin had asked him to try again, but hadn’t given him a time limit, leaving Levi to work at his own pace. In that way, Eren was the same. But every time they saw one another or spoke, he could sense the question lingering beneath the surface of each interaction. It was there when they greeted one another, there when they parted, and there in the enduring glances he continually received from the brunette. He knew he meant well, but it was stressing him out slightly, though he wouldn’t admit it.

Said brunette was preparing to leave near the time clock, and Levi watched through his office door as he pulled the apron over his head and his shirt rose a little above the waistband of his pants. The movement of the fabric was enough for him to catch a glimpse of toned hips beneath stunning honey whisky skin. Not wanting such observations to complicate the decision he’d already made, he banished it immediately from his mind and stood, approaching Eren just as he clocked out.

“Are you busy right now?” he asked.

Eren shook his head. “No. Why, do you need help with something?”

“Wanna go grab a coffee?”

Eren eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“No I don’t, that shit’s nasty. But you do.” He shrugged. “Figured we could go somewhere and… talk?”

He hated how strange he sounded to himself, like he was unsure, like he was nervous. Eren just stood there for a moment. “Do you… need to talk?”

Levi sighed. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Then sure.”

“Let’s get going then. You pick the place.”

Eren lead him to a Starbucks about a ten minute walk from the shop. He’d expected nothing less, honestly. The coffee chain had popped up and taken over like a cancer in the past decade; there was one at practically every corner. He’d never understood. Coffee was bitter, caffeine was addictive, and the liquid stained your teeth. There wasn’t a single good thing about the drink he could think of but the sheeple of the nation flocked to it nonetheless. It was disgraceful, really.   
As he and Eren took their seats, Eren with his mocha cappuccino, and he with a plain croissant and a pathetic excuse for a green tea latte, he thought about the mall. But he didn’t want to talk about it just yet, deciding in favor of asking Eren about himself instead.

“Did you get it all out of your system?” he started before reaching for his drink. “Was it helpful?”

Eren’s unfocused gaze sharpened and he took a sip from his cup. “Yeah, it did. A lot.”

Levi nodded, unsurprised. “So, what now?”

“I keep working on it, I guess. Dr. Smith asked me if I wanted to start some counseling for grief and trauma. I agreed to it, so I’m doing that now too. Beyond that, I guess I’ll just keep up the day-to-day. He suggested that I get some sort of routine going, find a hobby, crap like that.”

“Do you think that will be good for you?”

Eren shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m willing to try.” He took another sip of his drink and his gaze glossed over again for a moment. Then he looked down, pink hue rising to his cheeks as he smiled a little. “And, I uh, decided to adopt Titan.”

Levi paused to look away from the croissant he’d begun cutting in an attempt to deal with as little crumbs as possible. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I think that having him around might do me some good.”

The way he spoke left something hanging just at the end of the statement, something tacit and unsure, like he was seeking permission. While it was true that they’d found the puppies together, and Titan had grown on him like he had Eren, he knew that having a pet would send his OCD into overdrive and he wasn’t prepared to deal with that. Really, there was no need for Eren to be concerned with what he thought of the decision, although he appreciated the sentiment. So he shrugged and kept on with his food, saying “I think you should do whatever you think will help.”

Eren seemed satisfied with that as he sat back in his chair, but the way he held his cup a little tighter told Levi there was more he wanted to say. “And you? Is there anything you think might help you?”

Levi chewed his food thoughtfully, registering the slight disgust the question stirred in his stomach. But, he knew it had been coming. “We can go on Thursday, after therapy, if that’s okay with you.”

Eren nodded. “Yeah, that works for me.”

With that, they settled into a comfortable silence. Levi thought about the last time he’d tried doing as Erwin had asked him at the mall and how within five minutes he’d given up and bolted towards the bathroom. Eren had been off doing something, which part of him had been glad for. This time though, maybe having him there would be useful. Maybe his compulsions would calm down if another person was there to refute them, or to help him through them. Looking at Eren contently drink his drink sent a flutter of guilt through his stomach. It wasn’t fair for him to rely so heavily on his employee. No, that wasn’t the right word anymore. Eren was his friend. And he would never take advantage of his friends. Besides, the fact of the matter remained the same— if it was his problem, then he needed to fix it. Depending heavily on others could be risky and ineffective. Even if Eren would be there, he had to keep in mind that he was sole reason for the visit in the first place.

Upon finishing, Levi held the door open for Eren who awkwardly thanked him. In the parking lot he hesitated parting with him, not sure why. Thinking about the mall made his stomach turn, and it showed.

“Hey Levi, are you okay?”

He took a deep breath and landed a harsh glare on his company. “Of course I am.”

Most people would have been deterred by his expression alone but Eren pursed his lips. “Should I walk you back to the shop?”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t need to be escorted, kid.”

Eren smiled. “It’s fine, really. You walked me home that one time, I should do the same for you.”

He scoffed. “What is with you and returning favors? Not everything I do for you needs to be reciprocated.”

Eren blushed, fully and completely, and it took him by surprise. He looked like a damned schoolboy standing in front of him like that, nervous with pink cheeks. Levi was already uncomfortable at the thought of him tagging along on his therapy homework, and the thought of Eren doting on him made feel even more strange. After watching Eren shift uncomfortably under his gaze, he crossed his arms with a huff. Fuck it.

“Fine, let’s go. I’ve got shit to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say, Levi's opinion of Starbucks does nor reflect my own. Although I do hate coffee, I love Starbucks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you hate it... don’t let it win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again beautiful people! I am fully aware that it's been quite a while. I'm so sorry it took me so long to find my way back to this story. But I'm back. I won't make any more time-specific promises. The only one I can make is that this story will be finished, no matter how long it takes, so if you're willing to, please bear with me. I'm back at school so, well, that's a thing. But I love this story too much to quit on it. So that's my spiel, hope you enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> PS, if anyone thinks it would be helpful for me to include like a short recap, please mention so in the comments.

Dinner with her best friend was always nice, if not a little difficult. Sasha tended to do pretty well with the food now, but the conversations they’d been having as of late were cumbersome and heavy, not fun and light like they used to be, like she sometimes needed. They were full of heavy brows and long sullen silences, filled with deep thoughts instead of light chatter.Their minds tended to be often elsewhere, even now. She snapped out of it and caught herself staring, caught them both staring actually, eyes fixed on the gold band glinting in the dim light of the overhead fixture. Historia ran her finger across it somberly, a bitter smile twisting her dainty lips. “It’s hard, you know?”

Sasha nodded because she did know. It was a different struggle, but a struggle all the same. “You’re still mad at her?”

The corners of her mouth twitched, dragging her bittersweet expression further along her face. “You really should have seen her during the date, even Jean said something at one point. She just… drank so much.”

“Enough to make you worry?”

“Enough for me to blame myself.” There was a moment of silence as Historia paused and sighed heavily before taking a sip of her drink. It made Sasha frown.

“Historia…” The memory of the worst night of her life consumed her the second she thought of it. She saw Connie’s tear-streaked face looking back at her as she reached for him, and the intensity of emotions that had long since devastated her rolled off her skin like deep echoes. She had to bite the inside of her lip to force them away. “You know you can’t do that to yourself, right?”

Her smile turned rueful. “But it is. We don’t talk anymore because I don’t want to fight anymore. She doesn’t try because she doesn’t trust herself not to hurt me. But her disorder makes everything she thinks about us hurtful. So she drinks instead, more and more often lately. It makes her happier, and when she’s happier she doesn’t worry, and when she doesn’t worry, we can talk.” The full brunt of her frustration showed across her body as her shoulders and jaw tensed. “I hate it, I hate her disorder.”

She could relate. To deal with your own issues was one thing, but to shoulder those of someone else, especially someone you loved, was a battle. The thought of her own soon-to-be spouse lying in their bed, despondent and unresponsive, set a familiar defiance alight in her chest. Sasha found herself setting her mouth with conviction before the words could even leave them. “Don’t let it win then.”

Historia was momentarily confused. “What do you mean?”

“If you hate it— how it affects you, how it changes her— don’t let it win. She’s trying hard, Historia. I see it, all the time in group. She still loves you so much. I honestly don’t think she’ll ever be able to stop.” She took a bite of her food to allow her words to sink in. “Did you guys ever consider couples counseling? I think they offer it at the center. You know, it could be really helpful. It might be what you guys need.”

“I know. And I did consider it, but I think that adding more therapy to the equation might have the opposite effect. I don’t want Ymir to be overwhelmed, that won’t do us any good.” She looked down in her lap. Sasha caught the change in her gaze when her eyes glistened. At first she thought perhaps she would cry, but it was something entirely different— an excitement the current tone of the conversation was fully unworthy of. “Did I ever tell you about the day we first met?”

She had, but it was a good story and a good thing to hear. More importantly, it was good thing for Historia to remember. Sasha lied. “Actually, not yet.”

She watched as the gleam in her friend’s eyes spread to her expression, softening it, and turning it nostalgic in the sweetest of ways. “She moved into the house next to mine out of the blue one day. My neighbors and my parents were close so they invited us over to meet her. She wouldn’t talk to me at first so we played in silence. And that’s how it was for the first few weeks we had play dates.” Sasha could hear the memories in her voice and the fondness with which she spoke. It was so genuine she could practically see the young children sitting before her, hands full of crayons and toys as they should be. She waited for Historia to continue. 

“I thought she didn’t like me honestly, because every time I tried to talk to her, she would just stomp off to the other side of the room. One day she randomly handed me a crown, one she’d made out of construction paper and glitter. She told me I was a queen and asked if one day she could be my king. After that, we were inseparable, and she proposed to me every year on the same day, until I said yes when I was a sophomore in University.” Historia fully smiled into the afterglow of fuzzy emotion before laughing and throwing her hands up. “Ugh, marriage is so hard!”

Sasha laughed too. “Hey quit ruining it for me, we haven’t even sealed the deal yet!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I gotta let it out sometimes though. She can be so… frustrating.”

“But you love her.”

Historia nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

They picked over the remains of their meal for a few minutes longer before Historia’s eyes widened with realization. “You know what? We never did anything for you and Connie! We should throw a party.”

“A party?”

“Yeah,” She chirped excitedly. “I mean, you two got engaged like three months ago and I was so wrapped up in my relationship that I forgot to celebrate yours. And that was wrong of me, as your friend.”

Sasha considered all the dangers that parties usually contained for her; it was too common for people to put food at the center of social gatherings. Cake, pizza, chips and whatever else all in one place might prove too tempting. “Historia, I—”

“I know what you’re thinking— you’re worried about the food right? Well that’s an easy fix.” She opened her arms with a flourish, as if she were physically presenting the idea to her. “You pick the food. And if you don’t want any there at all, that’s fine too! It’s all up to you.”

Sasha stared at her friend’s excited face and considered her options carefully. A party would be nice, especially since Connie had been feeling better as of late. Hell, she could use a night of fun too. So she nodded her head and smiled brightly. “Let’s do it!”

…

Therapy had gone by in a haze. Considering it was his first session since what Armin and Mikasa had termed “the catharsis”, Eren hadn’t really felt like engaging too much. He could tell Dr. Smith had picked up on his mood and luckily had not forced him to interact with the group. It was safe to say that he was starting to view his therapist in a more positive light. Beyond the intelligence and clinical leadership the older man displayed, Eren had begun to notice the empathy and compassion underlying the way he treated those in his care. He found it somewhat admirable. It made him really consider what he wanted from Dr. Smith and therapy from this point out for most of the session. He hadn’t landed on anything conclusive by the time everyone was starting to get up. When he looked around at his group preparing to leave for the day, he caught sight of Levi’s hardened expression and the next part of their day took over his mind and stretched out before him like a sketchy dirt road.

The walk from the center to the mall was had in silence. Eren could sense Levi’s uneasiness. Well, fear was probably a more accurate word, but he found it hard to believe Levi was afraid of anything. But if he’d gauged him correctly, which he was beginning to be able to do more accurately, the tension radiating from him was a result of the frustration at his past attempt. So Eren chose to allow him his space and hoped that this time it would turn out better.

As they walked, he noticed the snow was just beginning to stick, not in a big way, but in that nice way where you knew winter was upon you, but hadn’t quite arrived yet. It made him excited, he loved the winter. And as an added bonus, Levi always looked so… bright in the snow. Ethereal, almost.

He felt his cheeks flush when he caught himself staring. It didn’t surprise him though. It seemed that over the last few weeks his mind had often been preoccupied with the dark-haired man. But he had to focus. He knew from very recent experience how difficult facing oneself could be. More than anything, he wanted to be supportive today. That’s what he reminded himself as he reached for the mall entrance and let Levi walk in first.

The smell always hit him before anything else— a medley of sweetness and spices, meats and breads, fried foods and ice creams all jumbled up in a pleasant way. He used to love coming to the food court with his mother when he was young, especially on those nights they intentionally delayed returning home. An unexpected sadness gripped and held him momentarily. He was caught off guard by the intensity of the anguish seeping into his chest and stalled as he finished crossing the threshold.

“Eren?”

He blinked away the memories to find Levi watching him with a creased brow. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Where do you want to sit?”

“Nowhere, preferably.” Levi grumbled in response.

“Well we have to sit somewhere.” Eren scanned the area as he spoke. “How about there, near the walkway? It’s like the corner of the court so at least you won’t be fully surrounded by other tables.”

Levi nodded, and they moved towards the spot Eren had suggested. Eren waited a moment for Levi to sit but the other just stood, staring at the table with the same disgusted and somewhat panicked look he’d had since they’d left therapy. It dawned on him that the table was covered in crumbs and left over food-bits. Quickly, Eren grabbed some napkins from a nearby dispense and reached for the mini hand sanitizer that Mikasa insisted he carry. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. He squirted a little on the table and wiped all the crumbs away. He looked back at Levi who seemed to have relaxed the smallest fraction of a bit.

“Thanks.”

Eren nodded and they sat down.

Levi immediately stood back up.

“I can’t do this.’

Eren’s reaction surprised even himself as he grabbed Levi’s wrist to prevent him from leaving. “Wait—”

“Let me go, Eren.”

Those words sounded so defeated in his ears, something he wasn’t okay with. “No but wait, you can—”

“Let the words ‘you can do this’ leave your mouth and I’ll send a few teeth along with them.”

He didn’t like the threat but, considering he hadn’t made a move towards harming him, Eren pressed on. “What’s your goal for today?”

Silver eyes narrowed like daggers. “What are you talking about?”

“Your goal; what did you come in here expecting to do?” 

He paused for a moment and, content that he wouldn’t run, Eren released his arm. “I wanted to stay for five minutes.”

Eren nodded. “Okay, and how long has it been?”

“Not even a minute.”

“Alright so you’re like almost a fourth of the way there already. You only ne—”

“A fifth.”

“What?”

Levi scoffed and sat down, this time next to him. “I’m a fifth of the way there. Do they not teach basic math in school anymore?”

Eren smiled, relieved he was going to continue to try. “I wouldn’t know, I skipped math a lot in high school. Didn’t seem like a skill I’d need in real life.”

Levi scoffed again and Eren offered him a smile. It was nice, calming, but the ease of the moment melted away sooner than Eren had wanted. He wanted to keep talking but his instinct was to stay quiet so as to not overwhelm Levi. He watched in similar silence as Levi set the remaining time on the timer app on his phone and placed it hesitantly in the middle of the table. They watched the numbers as they ticked down, agonizingly slow. At the two and a half-minute mark, Levi’s leg begun to shake. Eren supposed he was attempting to release the tension consuming his form. It was honestly a little hard to watch. Levi’s issue wasn’t at all like his own, but he understood the sincerity of trying your best. He understood what it was like to fight against yourself for the sole purpose of getting better. And that was why he sat beside him as patiently as he could as the two-minute mark came around.

Fifty-five seconds later, Levi was nearly shaking. The struggle was so evident in his body that Eren saw the internal fight playing out against the tight muscles in his face. He worried he may not make it the full time and wondered whether or not he should intervene, and if he should, to what extent? He didn’t know his boundaries in the situation but wanted so badly for Levi to get a win because, well, he deserved it. More than anyone. But no matter how Eren viewed the situation, it sucked.

“Eren,”

His name came forced through gritted teeth.

“Distract me.”

“What?”

When Levi opened his eyes, the glare he received was nothing short of murderous, “Distract. Me. Or else we’ll be stuck in that fucking bathroom for an hour while I scrub my skin off.”

Eren felt himself pale. He stole a glance at the timer. Just forty seconds to go. “What do you want me to do?” He wanted to help, but he didn’t have the slightest clue how and an intense anxiety bloomed in his chest.

“Anything.”

Eren panicked. His anxiety maxed out at the sight of Levi losing his battle and his immediate reaction was to frantically search the space around them for something to restrain the man. But not only was that (probably?) illegal, he knew in hindsight Levi would still perceive the attempt as a failure. The seconds ticked down as he sat there, useless as he ever was, hoping time would run out before Levi’s resolve did.

“That’s it.”

The declaration forced him into action. “Wait!”

Levi was rising from his chair when Eren grabbed for him. He caught his hand just in time to yank the surprised man back towards him and bring their lips together. It took a moment for Levi to recover from the initial shock, but a moment was all they needed because a few seconds later, the timer went off.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s enough about me this morning. How about you, what’s going on in your life?”
> 
> Still blues eyes permeated his mind for a moment before he shook the image of Annie away. “Same old, same old, I guess.”

The bell above the door rang as Bertolt stepped through it. He stared at the empty host booth and frowned. Normally, Marlowe was there to greet him with a sleepy smile he’d return and a menu he’d decline. He’d lead him to his favorite table and take his order, although since he’d always order the same thing, it was more like idle chit-chat for five minutes or so. But the young host wasn’t there. Taking a quick look around, Bertolt realized no one was.

“Um…”

He had options, and he considered them meticulously. He could just sit at his regular seat, but he didn’t want to overstep a boundary or appear as though he was sneaking around. The last thing he needed was for someone to think he was trespassing. He knew he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but he didn’t want it to look like he was. He could call out for the cook, but if he was busy, then he feared he might distract the man and he would get hurt somehow. One startle and he could slip or burn himself or anything really. He could backtrack and ring the bell again. That way, maybe someone would hear and come out to help. That was assuming anyone was there in the first place… had something happened?

He took a breath.

Then he challenged his thoughts before they spiraled out of control. He tried to combat them, realistically, like Erwin had taught him. The door was unlocked, which meant customers were being allowed in. Even if it looked like he was trespassing, he had frequented the diner weekly for nearly two years now, which meant they knew him. When they saw him, they would realize he was there for breakfast like always. He honestly had no reason to think something had happened— it was just an intrusive thought. In the unlikely event something had gone wrong, he’d only need one simply word to figure that out.

“Hello?”

There was a shuffling sound coming from behind the counter before the kitchen door swung open and Mr. Reeves walked out with a grimace and a twitching brow, both of which changed when he laid eyes on Bertolt.

“Oh, hey Bertolt. Shit, is it seven already?”

Bertolt sighed to himself. See, nothing to worry about. He nodded. “I’m afraid it is.”

The other man scoffed. “Of course. Why don’t you have a seat wherever you like. It might take a minute to get to making your food; Marlowe called out sick last minute so it’s just me til about 8:30.”

“Take your time, I can wait.” He headed for his usual spot near the big window.

“Hey, why don’t you sit at the bar? Could use the company while I finish opening up.”

It was outside of his normal routine, but as long as it wasn’t busy and he therefore didn’t have to share too much of his personal space with other diners, he agreed and took the seat nearest the wall, accepting a cup of coffee as he did so.

“So, how’s it been?” Bertolt started off.

“Shitty.”

“Oh,” he frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s wrong?”

“It’s that friggin’ son of mine.” Reeves grunted as he reached beneath the counter and pulled out the napkin holders. “Kid doesn’t understand what it means to be an heir.” He kept speaking as he distributed them throughout the restaurant, adjusting the holders so they were perfected centered on each of the tabletops. “Says he doesn’t want to run the place when I retire.”

“Are you retiring soon?” Bertolt asked. He found it hard to imagine his favorite restaurant absent of its owner. He wasn’t exactly friendly, but he was hard-working and put effort into building up a rapport with his customers. It made the place somewhat homier.

“Well, not tomorrow or anything like that. But it a few years, yeah. I’m gettin’ too old to be cookin’ on my feet all day, y’know?” 

“I can’t say I do.” Reeves tossed a white rag over his shoulder as he went back to the kitchen, and Bertolt listened to the sound of oil popping on the grill as he sipped his coffee in the momentary quiet between them. He didn’t want to offend the man, but he asked his next question in the spirit of continuing the conversation. “Well if Flegel doesn’t want to take over for you, what will you do?”

“Isn’t that the question.” came his grumbled reply. The sizzle and subsequent smell of food wafted through the opening between the kitchen and the bar. Eggs (scrambled with cheese), two sausage links, hash browns, and two buttermilk pancakes were soon to come. There was something about the way Reeves made his breakfasts that always reminded Bertolt of his childhood. And what a wonderful feeling to associate with anything, especially the first part of his day. It had a soothing effect that he valued, perhaps more than the food itself. It made him sad to think he might lose that soon.

“Have you thought about selling the place yet?” he asked, raising his voice above the groaning sounds of a kitchen still coming to life.

“Of course I have. But that’d be a real pity— this old joint’s been in the family for a few generations now. Be a shame to lose her that way.”

Bertolt drank some more of his coffee and thought for a moment. “Have you considered finding some sort of apprentice?”

Reeves looked up from the grill with a thoughtful grin. “Now there’s an idea; pick someone who wants to do what my son shoulda. Hm…” He looked back to the grill thoughtfully before shrugging off whatever he was thinking. “That’s enough about me this morning. How about you, what’s going on in your life?”

Still blues eyes permeated his mind for a moment before he shook the image of Annie away. “Same old, same old, I guess.” 

“Really? Didn’t you tell me something about puppies one time or other? What’s happening with them?”

Of all the things he could have asked about, Reeves happened to pick the topic giving him the most anxiety right now. He refrained from groaning as he thought about all the things he’d been thinking about for the past week or so surrounding the pups still at the hospital. The thoughts went swirling around in his head, rushing his mind with everything he was worrying about, everything that could go wrong, every single fret he had. 

“Stressing you out that much, huh?”

The question brought him out of his head, if only momentarily. “How could you tell?”

“Well the sweat tends to give you away.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, that always seems to be the case.” He swallowed and calmed himself, taking a deep breath or two in order to say what he wanted to say. Well, not exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Reeves that two puppies had already been adopted right when they put the word out. But that that had been at the beginning of the week, the same day even. The momentum had disappeared. He feared no one wanted the other three. If that was the case then they’d be taken to the pound, and what kind of life would they have there? A short one, at the very least, just waiting until maybe they’d be adopted or maybe they’d be put down because pounds never have any space and the law allows them to just euthanize animals after a certain amount of time which wasn’t anywhere near fair. And in the event that people showed interest, what kind of home would they be going to? Happy ones? Abusive ones? Neglectful ones? If they grew up in a bad environment then it would be all his fault for letting any kind of people take them home, especially considering how cruel their first owner was. And then there was Titan. Eren clearly loved that puppy. Should he allow someone to take him if they were interested? How would Eren feel? He would probably feel betrayed and blame him for it. Then therapy would be weird and it would be all his fault. Be he couldn’t legally refuse a person if they wanted to adopt them on the basis of someone calling dibbs. He could hide the puppy but what risk would he incur? Was it worth Eren not being mad at him? He didn’t know what to do.

Bertolt felt the prickle of that all too familiar force begin to appear. At its worst it was like a hook had been imbedded in the middle of his chest, yanking him into the overwhelming flood of his anxiety. It was paramount to the feeling of tipping back just the right amount too far in a chair, but being suspended in that moment, never falling or re-aligning. And he hated it. He didn’t want to have to deal with a panic attack right now, especially since he had a shift at the hospital after breakfast. He settled for pushing the topic of the puppies aside for the time being. He’d have to go through it all over again when he got to work anyway, and at least when he got there he would be alone in his office where he could combat his thoughts properly.

So instead of going into it, he swallowed the remainder of his coffee and smiled at Reeves as he set his food in front of him. “The puppies are good.”

Reeves returned his smile. “Glad to hear it. Enjoy your breakfast, I gotta tend to the family that just came in.”

“Thanks Reeves.”

Bertolt watched as the restaurateur grabbed five menus on his way to the host desk and greeted the group. Instead of his impending struggle regarding the three baby animals at work, he focused instead on the food, how much he loved it, and how much he would miss it. He also thought about how his chances of bringing Annie to the place were definitely dwindling now. Ever since he called her panicking about the pups a little while ago, she’d been on his mind more than usual. He wanted to share the diner with her and now felt pressure to make that happen instead of passively waiting for it to. Maybe Reeves would find an apprentice to pass on his skills and legacy to. He genuinely hoped so.

Breakfast was good, as always, and once he’d finished and paid (leaving a nice tip for Reeves which he struggled to get the man to accept), he headed to the animal hospital to start his shift. He checked on the puppies, all of whom were doing just fine. They were just big enough now where they started to really play with one another. He found it adorable. He sincerely hoped they would find good homes but he didn’t want to think about it yet, so he decided instead to take a trip to the front desk where he asked the receptionist for some of the pet owner files. Maybe he could call up one or two people who liked to take in rescues and see if there were interested. He stood in the little office flipping through files when he heard the chime of the front door accompanied by voices, one of which he recognized.

“Ugh, I really think I fucked up guys.”

Eren?

Bertolt peeked through the open wall to where Eren and two others were walking in. The blonde one smiled in what seemed like reassurance.

“I’ve known Levi for a while Eren; if he didn’t punch you in the face when you kissed him, I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay.”

“Armin,” he lamented, rather dramatically. “He’s not responding to any of my texts. And I’m trying not to take it personally but, what the hell!”

“Calm down Eren,” It was the woman who spoke this time. “Getting upset with him when you made a move without his consent isn’t going to play out well for you.”

Another exaggerated sigh. “Yeah I know. I’m just feeling, I don’t know, rejected, I guess.”

The conversation fizzled out as they neared the counter. Bertolt felt momentarily guilty for that which he had overheard, so he amended it by bypassing the receptionist and seeing them immediately. 

He crossed the threshold into the lobby right as his name was leaving the troubled brunette’s mouth. “Hey Eren, how’s it going?”

The stress and tension that had been moments before present in his features evaporated and were instead replaced with an obvious shy excitement. “Hey Bertolt. I, uh, came to adopt Titan if someone hasn’t gotten to him yet.”

Bertolt’s body seemed to deflate with relief as he gestured for Eren and his company to follow him. “I’m so glad you came! Let’s go get him.”

…

“HE DID WHAT?!?!?”

Levi forced his hand over his incredibly loud-mouthed partner before she could squeal-scream anything else. “Oi four-eyes, could you be any louder!”

She swatted his hand away, shit-eating grin practically shouting at him. “I fucking knew it!”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Yeah—”

But she wasn’t done. She practically jumped up to shut their office door, pacing the room in that annoying way she did when she got excited. “Oh you have to give me all the details— I’ve been on this track since you hired that green-eyed cutie! Fucking knew it! Haha!” She literally jumped as the interjection left her mouth. “Mike thought I was crazy, but I could see it. You know what it was? It was the way—”

“Alright Hanji, I get it.” He growled, resisting the urge to throttle her. “I didn’t share this information with you so you could gloat over my apparent lack of insight regarding picking up romantic cues. I shared it with you because I need help figuring out what to do. So make with the emotional support goddammit.”

“Geez,” She said as she returned to her seat. “Can’t believe a sweetie like Eren fell for a grump like you. Oh well.” She spun around in her chair, a response to the residual excitement he supposed. “So, tell Hanji, what’s got you all frustrated?”

Frustration was the perfect word for what he was feeling. Mostly with himself. He sighed and crossed his arms. “I didn’t achieve my goal.”

She frowned, but it was more sympathetic than anything. “How long did you want to stay for?” 

“Five minutes.”

“And how long did you stay for?” 

“Not five minutes.”

She pulled a face. “Cut the crap Levi, I know you know exactly how long you maintained proximity to a table in the food court.”

He sucked his teeth at her unsurprising perceptiveness. “Four minutes and forty-five seconds before I lost it and got ready to leave. Five minutes went by right after Eren’s surprise attack.” He tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, feeling disappointment tighten his shoulders. “I wasn’t able to do it by myself.”

Before he knew what was happening, she’d bonked him on the head. It wasn’t enough to do any damage, but enough to hurt. Through his indignant shock, he heard his friend laugh. Not in the normal obnoxious way, but something much softer. He figured there’d be an explanation coming and decided to be patient instead of retaliating, which he wanted oh so badly to do. “Oh Levi,” She scooted her chair next to him and made direct eye contact. “You did great, can’t you see that?”

He faltered under the mothering gaze she’d fixed on him and looked away in slight embarrassment. “If it hadn’t been for Eren—”

“So what?” she interrupted. “You’re gonna let fifteen seconds stop you from recognizing this as a victory? When was the last time you were able to set foot near that place, let alone sit down in it, for longer than 1 second?”

“I get your point Hanji, but—”

“But nothing Levi!” She’d screwed up her face in defiance. “You know better than to do this to yourself; you know how hard this was. I’ve watched you struggle with this thing for years, and never once were you able to accomplish what you did the other day. Eren or no Eren, you made a choice to go there and you stayed for an incredible amount of time, even if you didn’t reach your initial goal. That, in and of itself, is amazing. You see that, right?”

He exhaled and relaxed, small smile creeping onto his face. She was right. He knew she would see it the way he needed to and it was comforting to hear, especially since he had been feeling like he hadn’t made any progress. That’s why he went to her— Hanji was good at assessing situations for what they truly were, beyond subjective things like feelings. “Thanks Hanji.”

“Don’t mention it!” she beamed. “Now, what are you going to do about/to Eren?”

And she was back. He chose to ignore the second part. “I have no clue.”

“Have you guys talked about anything? What happened after he kissed you?”

“I-” He thought back to the moment and refrained from cringing. “I left.”

She was horrified. “Levi!”

“I know—”

“You didn’t!”

“I know!”

“Well you’ve gotta fix it.”

What the hell did she think he was talking to her for? He sighed in exasperation, looking away. “I fucking know that Hanji, what I don’t know is how. I’m not good at this shit.”

“You’re right, you’re not. Okay, okay, we can make this right. Have you spoken to him yet?”

“He’s been texting me, but I can never figure out what to say back. So, no.”

“Ugh Levi! Of course you’re this romantically constipated! Don’t worry, there’s still time to turn this around, provided that you want to of course.”

Eren’s face flashed in his mind. That face so bright when it was smiling, so striking when it was crying, both a beautiful canvas of emotion and a story he wanted to keep reading. He felt prickles over the surface of his skin when he remembered the feeling of those soft lips on his and the powerful smell of bergamot that for only a moment made him a little dizzy. Altogether, it had been nice. “I want-” He nodded. “I’m interested.”

“Okay great. Since Eren might be feeling a little rejected, or at least ignored, you should make it up to him. How about a date? You could take him out to eat.” she suggested.

He mulled it over momentarily, thinking about the last time they had been in a restaurant together a few months back. And how he’d slammed the other’s head onto a table. “Maybe not a restaurant. We could…” The moment the thought crossed his mind, he batted it away. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s a dumb idea.”

“Come on Levi,” Hanji encouraged. “It was your instinct. Go with it.”

He scratched his cheek, unsure. “Well, we could cook a meal together.”

She paused for a moment, and then, “That’s freakin’ ADORABLE!”

He lunged to cover her mouth again. “Shut the hell up already! Just… help me plan it. I don’t know how my OCD is gonna react to cooking with someone else in my own kitchen.”

Her eyes were gleaming when she spoke from behind his hand. “Let’s do it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of changing the summary to try and gain a little more traffic for the story. What drew you guys to the story/keeps you coming back? Any ideas?


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She paused before saying one last thing. “It’s me and… I’m here. I’m not the best me, not yet, but I’m here. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back again. Life's been... well, life, I guess. I hope everyone's been well. Gonna keep going with this story like I promised. Hope you all like the chapter, I put some elbow grease into this one. Enjoy!

It was always the same— the same argument, the same feelings, the same reactions. The same problem. She stared at the bedroom door which had been slammed shut and locked for the past ten minutes. Ymir sighed. She’d done it again. She’d created problems when there had been none, instigated a fight, and alienated her wife. Just like always. It never changed, and she was sick of it.

She wanted to knock again, to apologize and move on, to get past her weaknesses. But that’s not how it works when you hurt someone. You don’t just magically fix everything with a quick apology and a promise you know you can never fulfill. More than anything else that was stopping her from doing those very things, she was stubborn, plain and simple.

“Fine!” She hurled the word at the door before turning around. “We don’t have to talk. I’ll be at The Garrison if you need me, which you obviously don’t.”

Knowing she’d receive no reply, Ymir descended the stairs to snatch her phone and keys off the kitchen counter, taking rushed steps through the foyer and eventually out of the house. She slammed the door as she finished crossing the threshold, because Historia wasn’t the only one who could do such things. She yanked the car door open and slammed that one shut too, because why not. However flustered and upset as she was though, her finger hovered over the ignition button. She didn’t want to head to the Garrison— the only thing that awaited her there was a really expensive distraction and morning of vomiting and migraines. Definitely not worth it when she had to be at the station by six. Turns out most people don’t like their cops hung-over.

“Dammit!” She shouted as she hit her head repeatedly on the steering wheel, gripping the edges and cursing until she felt a little better. When she stopped, she caught the glint of her cell phone case in the light coming from the fixture above the garage and reached for it. She’d dialed the number before she could talk herself out of it.

“Well if it isn’t my baby girl, finally calling her old man! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Dad…” She cringed at the way her voice cracked. “Are you busy?”

His tone changed and his words came out caring, but softer. “Never too much for you.

And that was all it took. She fully cried then, and not in a nice way either. It was an honest cry, a disgusting, disgruntled, heavy sobbing that sounded so loud to her, especially against the supportive cooing on the other end of the line. She was frustrated and angry and, hell, she was sad. It all came out in that moment and she felt exposed, and part of her thought her father would judge her for it. Her rational mind told her he wouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it.

“God I hate crying!”

Her father chuckled. “Didn’t the therapist tell you crying is a good thing?”

“I know, emotional release, vulnerability, blah blah.” Her voice was still strained and she wiped tears away as her breath started to settle. “I still hate it…”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Ymir?”

She sighed. “Me, I guess, like always. I’m so sick and tired of my bullshit, Dad. It’s destroying my marriage.”

“Marriage is hard sweetheart, no matter who you are.”

“Well it seems especially hard since I’m me.” she mumbled. “I just want to change already! I’ve been in therapy for a few months now and I feel like… I don’t know.” She groaned, resting her head on the steering wheel once more. “I feel like no matter what I do, I’m always the same me.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

Her eyebrows raised at the response. “What’re you, kidding? Look at all the problems I’m causing.”

“Now hold on, let’s think about this. You’ve always been the same you, right?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled.

“So you were the same you when Tori fell in love with you, right?”

The comment flipped a switch in her mind, and suddenly she saw Historia’s face the summer before she went off to college. A face shy and highlighted red against the backdrop of twilight at the end of a hike. Eighteen years old and confessing love like her words would shatter the mirrored feelings Ymir herself had harbored for years. It had been the start of their romance for real. With that memory at the forefront of her mind, she could only offer her father a small “Yes.”

“And you were the same you when your mother and I found you, right?”

She smirked a little. “Like I can remember that.”

“Fair enough,” Her father laughed a bit on the other end of the line. “You know, I’ll never forget the day we met. Turned out to be one of the most important days of my life.”

The sentimentality was a lot for her. “Oh geez, Dad, that’s gross.”

He laughed, genuinely this time. “I mean it. We walked into the home and there you were, little girl with pigtails hiding behind a counter and staring at us. I thought maybe you liked the way we were dressed or something, you just wouldn’t stop. I went up to you to ask your name. Imagine my surprise when this little six-year-old flipped me double middles and hauled ass.”

She almost choked on the unexpected laughter that burst from her throat. “Oh God really? I don’t think you ever told me that.”

“Your mother and I didn’t know what to do.” He sighed, but she could tell it was happy. “But we knew it would be you that completed our family. So, we were patient. At least one of us went to visit you every day for months. You were a trip, let me tell you. I brought you cookies and candy and dolls and trucks and whatever a kid might want. I thought I could win you over that way, but it took something else. Do you remember the day you finally decided you wanted us to be your parents?”

“Vaguely.” she answered truthfully. “I just remember looking back at that place and being happy to leave with you and Ma.”

“You made a deal with me. You came over, stamped your little foot on the ground, and told me you’d let me be your dad only if I promised I would be your last one.”

His words sent a pang through her chest and she clutched at her shirt there. The pain of her early childhood rose within her more fiercely than ever before as she remembered the solitude she’d felt in the few foster homes she’d found herself in as a young child. And of course she knew she carried the rejection of being sent back to the children’s home with her no matter how much older she got, but she’d never faced it. It was a strange pain, and it sat fiercely and intimidating in her heart. She wasn’t ready to deal with it and she feared she never would be.

“Trust is hard for you baby girl— you learned not to give it out at such a young age. Your Mom and I worked so hard to build the relationship we have with you. Me especially, because I promised you. I think I did a damn good job at keeping my end of the deal, right?”

“Of course!” she managed to exclaim through the new tears moving down her face.

“And what about Tori, don’t you think she’s keeping her promise to you as well?”

That confused her. “What promise?”

“Your vows, sweetie.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Marriage is a promise, to stay with your partner, to be there for them, to change for them. You don’t have to fear whether or not you’re good enough for her. You have to remember, Ymir, she picked you too.”

She was exhausted. What an emotional conversation. Part of her was convinced she should have just got that drink like she had been planning. But the overwhelmingly larger part knew this had been good for her even though she gripped the phone in her hand so tightly she thought she might break it.

“How do I fix this, Dad?”

“Good question.” He thought for a moment. “I think you’re gonna have to show Historia that you’re willing to fight for her, even if all you end up fighting is yourself.”

Ymir wiped her eyes and heaved a particularly heavy sigh. She could feel that the conversation was ending. “You’re right. Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome baby girl, I hope you have a better night.”

“Me too.” She snorted. “And, uh… I love you."

“Damn, sounded like it killed you to say it.” His words were teasing, but she did feel some guilt behind them. “I know you do. And I love you too. Just remember, you can give your old man a call anytime.”

“Yeah.”

He hung up first, and Ymir was left to the silence of her car. She looked to the second story of the house and saw light coming from their bedroom. Fights were fights, but this had been a lot for her. She was tired, and raw, and just wanted to get this over with. But she knew Historia was hurting, and that took precedence. So she flung the driver’s side door open and forced herself back into the house, leaving her pride at the front door as she climbed the stairs. When she found herself standing in front of their bedroom, she knocked. And then she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Historia. I know you’re still mad at me, you honestly have every right to be, but I’m not leaving this time. I won’t run. So, when you’re ready to see my face again, I’ll be outside of the door.” She paused before saying one last thing. “It’s me and… I’m here. I’m not the best me, not yet, but I’m here. Always.”

Then she walked to the wall opposite the door and slid down into a comfortable position, because she was determined and for the time being, it was all she had. She would show Historia that she was willing to fight for her, no matter what.

…

The smell of wood polish was pervasive in the changing room, highlighted by the subtle scent of cologne. All together it wasn’t a bad scent— heady, comfortable, and masculine. Just like Marco. He’d been on Jean’s mind constantly since their date, which honestly was fair, considering they’d not stopped texting one another since. He was the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last person he spoke to before bed. It had been some time since he last felt this kind of excitement and it was exhilarating. He hung on every word, reveled in the sound of Marco’s laughter, and couldn’t wait until they spoke next. So, when Marco mentioned he needed to pick out a tux for a formal event, Jean was quick to suggest that they go shopping together. Jean had insisted upon a mall fairly out of the way because of a high-end men’s formal wear brand he knew was offered there. It took a little bit of convincing and a promise of ice cream in order to get Marco to even enter the store. But he was glad he’d relented.

Jean moved to knock on the door Marco was currently behind. “Is everything fitting?”

“Mostly,” he replied after a moment. “But I’m struggling a little. Think you could give me a hand?”

His face heated at the words and the “Sure,” he tried to say casually came out more like a croak than anything else. Like he was thirsty, which he most assuredly was.

When he heard the door unlock, he pushed it gently to reveal Marco almost completely dressed. Jean’s trained eyes were quick to spot the mistakes in the otherwise perfect garnet ensemble and he chided himself at the crassness of the immediate thoughts he had upon seeing them. The frustrated frown twisting Marco’s features dissolved all criticisms before they could form in his throat. Instead he flashed him a smirk.

“This your first time or somethin’?”

“The last time I wore a tux was prom night. Not my favorite memory.” he admitted with a shudder to confirm the unpleasantness of the occasion.

“You were a boy then. You’re a man now, and a man should know how to wear a tux. Let me?”

Marco nodded and dropped his hands to let Jean correct the mistakes. He tackled his bowtie first, stepping in closer to adjust the lengths of the strips of fabric that rested on either side of his collar. The silk was cool against his fingertips as he pinched and pressed, twisted and tied, until the shape of a bow formed in his hands. Before he pulled the right half through the final loop, he checked with Marco to make sure it wasn’t too tight around his neck and found his eyes surveying the freckles lightly dusting the skin there. Had he not been so close, he would have missed him.

“Do you have them everywhere?”

The thought had slipped out before Jean could stop it.

“Do I have what everywhere?”

Shit, he’d heard. _Play it cool._ “I was just admiring your freckles.” His hands lingered at the now-straightened bowtie sitting proudly at the top of the other man’s shirt. His goal was the cummerbund strapped far too high on Marco’s waist. Jean smiled slyly at the slight bob in Marco’s Adam’s apple as he let his hands move towards the next article of clothing he would fix, allowing them to press lightly on Marco’s chest as they went. “I couldn’t help but wonder…” He grabbed the edges of the pleated cummerbund, punctuating a swift downward movement to simultaneously adjust the accessory and accompany his next words. “If they went all the way down.”

The sudden appearance of red in Marco’s face, which burst and bloomed against his features like a wanton Higanbana, was enjoyed and entirely expected. His next words, however, surprised Jean in the most unpleasant of ways. “I hate my freckles.”

The light air he was trying to create evaporated as quickly as it had appeared and instead of the flirtatious encounter he was going for, Jean found himself facing something far more fragile, something he knew he could immediately relate to.

“Why?”

He’d meant it to sound interested, but even to Jean’s own ears his inquiry came off as harsh and accusing. He chided himself for it but no less waited for an answer. Marco shrugged and took a seat on the small bench the dressing room had provided. “People always have something to say about them. I was picked on a lot, especially in high school.”

He worried his lip as Marco refused to make eye contact, the embarrassment still lingering on his face. Mentally he sighed, and sat down next to him. “I used to be a model.”

Marco’s eyebrows raised. “Catalogue?”

“Couture.”

“ _Wow_.” He thought for a moment. “Then you understand, right? I’m sure freckles aren’t very fashionable.”

Jean scoffed. “No, they’re not. Most models who have them end up with either a shit-ton of makeup on their faces, or they get photoshopped out in the image editing process.”

“Not surprising.” He smiled, but it was bitter.

Jean leaned back into his arms and looked up at the ceiling. It was smooth and white, very different from the off-colored popcorn one in his childhood bedroom. He used to stare at that ceiling for nights on end making the same wish over and over again.

“I also used to be fat.” He had to stop himself from shivering as the words passed his lips. Self-disclosure was so gross.

Marco turned to him then, clearly surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah when I was a kid until I was a teenager. I didn’t have many friends and ate my feelings. Got bullied a lot by assholes who had nothing better to do.” His words tasted so unpleasant against his tongue that he thought he might wretch. It wasn’t the part of his life that he liked to remember. “I wish I could say something insightful, something about not letting people get to you and about loving yourself, but the truth is, I hated myself. For a long time. I sat in my room playing video games, hoping that I could somehow just not be fat anymore. And when I lost the weight, it wasn’t for good reasons. I wanted popularity, I wanted to go to parties, I wanted attention and girls and boys and a lot of things you think will make your life better when you’re on the outside looking in. So, I lost the weight. Told myself I was too ugly, worked out to punish myself for it, starved myself into a new body, one that eventually got noticed. And then I got vain.” His jaw clenched at the memories— how he treated his mother, manipulated his “friends”, pushed Mina away…

He sat forward and turned his body so that he was facing Marco. They made eye contact for the first time since the conversation had started. “Look the point is this; we all have to decide how we feel about ourselves and our bodies. And if I could do it over again, I wouldn’t let what people thought of me, good or bad, influence that. I would change for _me_ instead. And as far as your freckles are concerned,” He reached up and cupped Marco’s face, kissing underneath both his eyes and then very quickly pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto his lips. “I think they’re abso-fuckin’-lutely _gorgeous_.”

Marco smiled and Jean was relieved to see that this time it was genuine. “Thanks, Jean.”

“No problem. Now,” His eyes flashed playfully. “Let’s get you out of that tux.”

It didn’t take Marco long to strip off the layers of clothing and return them to their original presentation. Afterwards he went to pay, declining Jean’s offer to cover half of the bill, which he insisted on doing until the other reluctantly agreed with the single stipulation that Jean accompany him to his event as his date. Jean enthusiastically agreed and suggested they go grab their ice cream from a gelato place down the street that was one of his favorite spots. So they took the tux back to Jean’s car and headed out.

Once they arrived, Jean ordered something coffee-flavored and Marco ordered something with caramel, the names to which they had fun mispronouncing. They took their seats, chatting idly about the shop, when Jean had first visited, and other such things until all the ice cream was gone and they ordered two small lattes. They sipped their coffee late into the afternoon. When the rays of the sun permeated the shop’s windows and highlighted Marco’s features just right, Jean kissed him again, tasting the residual caramel from his coffee and ice cream on his tongue. It was after that fervent kiss that his phone rang, Mina’s picture appearing on the screen. An unexplained chill passed through his body.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank God you answered.”

Her voice sounded panicked. Immediately he knew whatever she was about to saw would be far from good.

“Jean, you need to meet me at the hospital as soon as you can. Something’s wrong with Rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info on Paranoid Personality Disorder
> 
> People with this disorder may...
> 
> 1\. Be reluctant to confide in others because of unwarranted fear that the information will be used maliciously against him or her  
> 2\. Read hidden demeaning or threatening meanings in benign remarks or events  
> 3\. Persistently bear grudges (i.e., be unforgiving of insults, injuries, or slights)  
> 4\. Have recurrent suspicions, without justification, regarding fidelity of spouse or sexual partner  
> 5\. Lack trust in others, have an excessive need to be self-sufficient and a strong sense of autonomy.


End file.
